


Youtuber Until Dawn

by Olivia_Ivy



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game), Youtube RPF
Genre: ALL OF IT, ALL THE GAY, Dan and Phil are oblivious, Death, Every Youtuber Ever, Gen, I'm so sorry Tyler, M/M, SO GAY, Supernatural Elements, Teen Drama in Twenty-Something-Year-Olds, Until Dawn events, Violence, Wendigos, YouTubers - Freeform, per usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 60
Words: 24,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_Ivy/pseuds/Olivia_Ivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When eight YouTubers are trapped on a remote mountain retreat and things quickly turn sinister, they start to suspect they aren’t alone.</p><p>Gripped by fear and with tensions in the group running high, you’ll be forced to make snap decisions that could mean life, or death, for everyone involved.</p><p>Every choice you make in your terrifying search for answers – even the seemingly trivial ones – will carve out your own unique story.</p><p>Your actions alone will decide who survives Youtuber Until Dawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a set up chapter.

Hi. My name is (not) Olivia-Ivy. But for the purposes of this endeavour, you may call me … God.

Just kidding :) I’m an atheist.

BUT, all that aside, we sort of need to get to business. As I’m sure you gathered from the title and various tags, this will be Youtuber Until Dawn. What that means is that I have selected 12 Youtubers that I watch semi-regularly and put them in the place of the twelve characters of Until Dawn (The 8 playable ones + Hannah, Beth, Dr. Hill, & the Stranger). You may be wondering how the events of the game will be able to translate into the written word. I have a system for that.

Each kudos will be the equivalent of one QTE that was passed safely. Each subscribe will be one Don’t Move event that was passed safely. What do I mean? Well, in a purely hypothetical sense, let’s say that there are a total of 10 QTE’s in the whole game, and this story only gets 8 kudos. Then only 8 of the 10 QTE’s will be passed. The other two will be failed and consequences of that will be carried out as such. Same goes for Don’t Move events. This does not include the tutorial parts (Giving acorns to the squirrel, climbing the wall) as those just let you try again and only exist to get you used to the controls.

Now on the topic of the commands. These will (obviously) be dealt with in the comments. Each chapter will end in a choice (excluding tutorial choices) and there will be a day in which people can put in their votes for choices. Obviously, this will make for some short chapters in high action scenes. But the shorter the chapter, the faster I can get it out. Timed choices will not be categorized under QTE’s, I don’t have faith that this will get that many kudos.

Also: I do not own a PS4. All my knowledge of the game comes from watching Youtubers play it (specifically Markiplier, jacksepticeye, MatPat, and a little bit of Pewdiepie). I will be using the wiki and other YouTube videos for each choice.

Important note: I know someone is going to ask this. I just know it. I know how terrible people are, a lot of you may be thinking it, and someone is going to ask this: No, Danny is not going to have a part in this story, and absolutely not the part of Beth. It’s too soon, it would be downright rude, and I’ve only seen like 3 of Cyndago’s videos, if that. N. O.

Here’s a quick cast list:

Crabstickz

KickthePJ

Danisnotonfire

AmazingPhil

Markiplier

Jacksepticeye

Pewdiepie

Connor Franta

Tyler Oakley

Troye Sivan

MatPat

Cryaotic

If you don’t know who someone on that list is, go look up some of their videos ASAP.

Okay … Yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay, with that in mind, let’s get this shitshow on the road!


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect no consistency on which Youtubers represent which characters.

Eleven people were on a mountain in Canada. Of those eleven, ten didn’t know one was there. All of those ten were in a lodge and six of those were in the kitchen of the lodge. Two of those in the kitchen were passed out drunk. Of the four not in the kitchen, one was on their way there, two were in a bedroom setting something up, and one was in the living room.

One of the four in the kitchen placed a note on the counter, close to one of the guys passed out drunk. “Oh my god,” a different one said. He had curly brown hair and bright green eyes twinkling with mirth, “I can’t believe you actually did this.” He was shushed by the guy who put the note down, an Irishman with brown hair and icy blue eyes.

“Don’t you guys think this is a little bit cruel?” the third member asked. He was American with Asian features – pitch black hair and warm brown eyes.

“Oh, come on Mark,” the Irishman said, “it’s his own fault, he can’t just tell us shit like this and expect us  _not_   ****

to tease him about it.”

“Yeah, but still, this seems like an overreaction. Back me up Felix,” Mark said to the last of the four, a Swedish man with long blonde hair that probably needed to be cut soon. He just shrugged, an impish grin playing on his face.

“See? He’s cool with it,” the slightly inebriated Irishman (yes, ha ha, stereotypes) said before leaving the room. The other three followed him out of the kitchen. The British guy, Felix, and the Irishman stayed on the same floor, going to the room where their two comrades had set up recording equipment. Mark went upstairs, looking for their soon-to-be victim.

“Tyler?” He called out as he entered a hallway on the second floor of the lodge.

* * *

 

Back in the room, the five occupants of the lodge in on the prank took their respective positions. Two hid under the bed, one was in the closet with a handheld camera, and one was behind a partition, all of them laughing slightly, influenced by the alcohol in all of their systems. The final prankster, Felix, stood near the door. “Shh! He’s coming!” the guy with the British accent said from under the bed.

Down the hall, an American with blonde hair, blue eyes, hipster glasses, and a large owl tattoo on his inner forearm, walked towards the door carrying a candle to light his way. “Felix?” he called out before entering the room. “It’s me.”

“Hey Tyler,” he said, stepping closer.

* * *

 

In the kitchen there was now only the two guys passed out drunk on the counter, and a third man. He was Australian with short brown hair and blue eyes. He was looking out into the wintry landscape, just soaking in the scenery, when he saw a shadow move outside. “Hey,” he said, not taking his gaze off the window, “did you guys see that? I thought you’d said it’d just be us this weekend.” Hearing no answers from either of the men behind him, he turned around. “Connor?”

He moved over to the counter and noticed the empty bottles on the counter. He picked one up and saw there wasn’t a drop left. “Jeez, Connor,” he said, slapping the passed out American on the shoulder, “once again, you’ve outdone us all.”

Further down on the table, the Australian saw a piece of paper. He looked at it curiously before picking it up.

_****_

_Tyler,_

_You look so damn hot in that shirt …_

_But I bet you look even better out of it ;-)_

_Come to the guest room @ 2 am_

_Felix_

_**xxx** _

 

The Australian’s heart sank. He knew that handwriting didn’t belong to the Swedish man. “Oh, god, what did Tilly get himself into now?” he said out loud.

* * *

 

In the bedroom, Tyler was addressing Felix, completely oblivious of all the others in the room. “I got your note,” he said.

“Glad you could make it,” Felix answered, grinning.

There was a small silence of Tyler looking unsure of himself, which Felix filled by saying, “Maybe we should start with a little, you know, making out,” this got a barely stifled snort from behind the partition, “and see where it goes from there.”

Tyler gave him a grin and instead began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh my god,” someone underneath the bed said, “he’s taking his shirt off.”

It came out louder than intended and Tyler quickly covered himself. “What?! Oh, my gosh!” He bent a little to see under the bed as the hidden occupants made themselves known, including the one in the closet with the camera.

It was then that Mark burst into the room, ready to warn Tyler but quickly realizing he was too late. Felix was quick to apologize, but Tyler ran out of the room. Mark’s protective nature took over and he glared at the room full of people. “You guys are assholes!” he yelled before following after Tyler.

The Australian heard the commotion and saw a figure he identified at Tyler pass by the window, quickly. He ran to Connor and shook him. “Connor, Connor! Ugh, forget it,” he mumbled to himself before darting out into the living room. He paused only to get his jacket before joining the rest of his friends outside. They were calling Tyler’s name into the night.

“What’s going on?” the Australian demanded, pushing past them all, “Where’s Tyler going?”

“We, we played a prank on him and he ran off,” the Irishman bashfully explained.

“What did you do?!”

“We were just messing around, it wasn’t serious,” Felix said.

“You JERKS!” the Australian shouted before running into the woods, alternatively shouting “Tyler!” and “Tilly!”

He jumped over logs and jumped down ledges, following what he could only assume was Tyler’s footprints. He jumped down a second ledge and walked, feeling out of breath. Using his phone to light the path in front of him, he walked slowly. That is, until he saw a column of fire near him. Then he got his ass in gear.

He reached a small clearing where a figure was crouched down and hunched over, shivering in the cold. “Tilly!”

“H-Hello? Troye?” the figure asked, turning to the Australian. Troye hurried over.

“Tilly! Oh, my god, you must be freezing! Here, take my jacket,” he slipped the jacket off and the American put it on.

“I’m such an idiot … I’m so dumb …” he said, standing up. Troye wrapped his arms around the blonde man before a soft screech took their attention.

“Tyler …?”

“Troye …?” they said at the same time, both looking at where the sound originated from. Their basic survival instincts took over and they broke out into a sprint away from the unseen threat.

“Tyler!” Troye yelled as Tyler tripped over a loose board. He ran back to help him up, losing his phone in the process.

“Jesus Christ,” Tyler breathed as they reach a cliff. There was no way around, no was to leave except back in the direction of the danger. They joined hands and began backing up, putting as much distance between themselves and the threat as they could. Except that Tyler stepped too far back, and fell off the cliff. Troye, still holding his hand, came down with him. But he had the reflexes to grab a root poking out of the cliff and hold onto them both.

“Hold on, Tilly!” he yelled down to Tyler, hanging onto his hand for dear life. There was another column of flame, this one right above Troye’s head. A man stuck his head over the cliff and extended a hand to the boys. Troye realized his options: Drop Tyler and go with this man, or let go of the root.

He let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY TYLER AND TROYE, I LOVE YOU TWO, BUT I NEEDED SOMEONE WITH A TATTOO AND OF THE YOUTUBERS ON MY LIST, THE ONLY ONES WITH A TATTOO WERE TYLER AND PEWDIEPIE AND IT DIDN'T FLOW AS WELL AS WITH TYLER.
> 
> Oh and don't worry. Those "Graphic Descriptions of Violence" will be coming later ;)


	3. The Analyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everybody who told me how to find the subscriptions, that's what I'll be doing for DME's from now on.

You are in a room. Fancy, well maintained, obviously an office. Wooden furniture, leather seats, and a very fancy painting hanging on the wall opposite you. Mid afternoon light streams in through one of the offices large windows. The only other occupant of the room stands at the window, looking out. **  
**

He is a young man, late twenties at most. He has combed brown hair, not yet graying, and expensive looking clothes. You look down on the desk and see a plaque facing you. It reads _Dr. M.F. Patrick_. **  
**

The man at the window, presumably Dr. Patrick, turns to face you, acting like he just now realizes you are in the room. He makes his way to the opposite side of the desk than you. "Before we begin," he starts, "there are a few things I need to make sure you understand.” He’s carrying a can of Diet Coca-Cola. “You see, no one can change what happened last year. The past is beyond our control.” He sets the can on a coaster and sits down. He clasps his hands and gives you what is supposed to be a comforting smile. You can, instead, count all his teeth. **  
**

“But,” he continued, “there is freedom in this revelation. Everything you do, every decision you make from now on, will open doors to the future. I want you to remember this,” he readjusts himself in his chair. “I want you to remember this as you play your game. Every single choice will affect your fate as well as the fate of those around you.” He pauses, presumably for breath, and you can hear classical music and a car alarm. He studies you for a moment before deciding to get _quite_ close to you and nearly poke your eye out with his protruding chin. **  
**

“So,” he says, “you have committed to commence with this, ‘game’. This is significant.” He gives you a close-lipped grin this time and pushes himself away from you, “And I want to help you see it through. Sometimes …” he open a file, “Sometimes these things can be a little scary … terrifying even … but I am here to make sure that no matter how upsetting things may get,” he smiles again, he should really stop doing that, “you will always find a way to work through it.” **  
**

He glances down at the file. “Alright. We will start with a simple exercise. Could you please pick up this card?” he puts a piece of cardstock face down in front of you on the desk. “And I want you to look at the picture on the other side, and tell me what you feel about it. It is essential that you answer honestly in order to get the most out of this experience.” He purses his lips, then grins again. You quickly look down at the card and pick it up with your gloved hand. **  
**

You examine the picture. It is a landscape photo of a farm. Tall grass, or maybe corn, cover most of the picture. The sky is blue with a fair amount of clouds. There is a scarecrow standing as the focal point of the picture. It has a stitched grin, a single white eye, and a hook serving as its only hand. In the background, a red barn stands. If you look closely, you can see two dots parallel each other in the bottom left hand corner, nearly hidden in the shadow of the corn. **  
**

You put it down and look at Dr. Patrick expectantly. He picks up a pen and hovers it over the file. “So … how did that picture make you feel? Remember  — be honest.”

You feel like this is stupid. Nevertheless, you look down at the card again. **  
**

 

**It makes me feel happy  
**

**I feel uneasy**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First choice! I'll check the story in 12 hours, 8:00 pm EST, and whichever option has the most votes, that's what I'll write.
> 
> Also, the F in MatPat's name stands for Fear (#reference)
> 
> IT IS NOW 8PM EST, THE POLLS ARE CLOSED, NO MORE VOTES WILL COUNT.


	4. The Analyst (Uneasy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I mentioned at the beginning that there are going to be some short chapters. All the therapist scenes involve a lot of choices without much dialogue or action in between. I tried to stretch this out as much as I could, but there was only so much I could do.

You bounce back and forth in your mind for a moment. He said to be honest, but you know how therapists, and psychologists, and any other -ists work. They’ll keep twisting your words around and around until it fits what they want to hear. It’s easier to just tell him what he wants to hear right off the bat. You tell him it makes you feel uneasy.  **  
**

He writes something on the file and looks back up at you. “Okay … Honesty is good,” he looked back down. “But what do you think it is that makes you feel …” he finishes writing and looks at you, “uneasy?” **  
**

You look down at the picture.

** The scarecrow **

** I’m not sure **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time there is going to be a four hour limit on voting rather than twelve hours like yesterday. I'll get another chapter out after that. At 12:15 pm EST, the polls will close, until then, Vote and Enjoy!
> 
> POLLS ARE CLOSED


	5. The Analyst (The Scarecrow)

You tell him the scarecrow makes you feel uneasy. You’re not sure exactly what it is about it though. It could be the face. A floppy hat covers most of it, but you can still make out a stitched grin, along with what you think is an eye. It might be the hook that glints in the picture. Whatever it is, it unsettles you.

“I see … I see …” you think this guy pauses too much. He writes something down with his fancy pen. “Let’s say the scarecrow were not there … Would you feel comfortable staying there on your own for a period of time? Say, a week, for example?”

Ignoring how specific the question is, you examine the picture, ignoring the scarecrow.

**Sure**

**No I wouldn’t**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four hour poll time again, 5 pm EST. Yes you would stay there or no you wouldn't.
> 
> Polls are closed


	6. The Analyst (Sure)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FULL HOUR AND A HALF OF MY LIFE HAVE BEEN DEVOTED TO GETTING THIS UPLOADED. MY INTERNET IS CONSPIRING AGAINST ME.

You appraise the picture again before shrugging and nodding. Yeah, you’d stay there. The barn has a homey feel to it, and though the cornfield itself is unsettling, you wouldn’t mind it overall.

Dr. Patrick makes an interested noise. He hasn’t looked up from his notes. “And what if I told you that this cottage …” you make a face. Dumbass, that’s a barn, what cottage looks like it would have cows and pigs and hay and shit in it? “was haunted?” he finished, an unspoken _Would you still stay?_ in the air.

**I wouldn’t care**

**I’d be scared**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polls close at 9:30 pm EST


	7. The Analyst (Wouldn't Care)

You shrug again. Ghosts don’t scare you because they’re not real. Plus, if you did see one, you’d think it was cool. Dr. Patrick seems to find this funny. You find his nose funny.

“So, the scarecrow fightens you … and yet … you don’t appear to be bothered by the possibility of the supernatural …” you frown. That’s not what you said, that’s not what you meant. He’s twisting your words around. He gives you a condescending look. “I suspect someone is not being entirely honest with me …” he scowls and moves uncomfortably close to you, staring you down.

The chime of a clock breaks the silence. He moves back. “Our time’s up. Let’s investigate that in our next session, shall we?” He leaned back in his chair, nodded, took his Diet Coke, and went back to the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter begins on the mountain, it'll be up as soon as I have it written. Thank you to everyone who voted, this turned out much better than I hoped!


	8. Friendship (10 Hours Until Dawn)

A bus winds its way up a curving mountain trail, tall pine trees on either side, dominating the terrain. There are few occupants on the bus — an elderly woman in the back, wrapped in layers and layers of clothes; a middle aged man with a beer gut and gray hair (what little there was left of it) driving the bus; a twenty-five year old blonde man wearing bright pink headphones and watching something on his phone. He was wearing winter clothes as well, but not as much as the woman. **  
**

His phone was getting the broadcast from a local radio station. The bus driver had turned the radio off at the request of the woman, so the man made due with what he had. A haunting, ethereal song called “O Death” was just finishing up and the radio host was back on.  **  
**

“Today is the one year anniversary of the dreadful tragedy that took place on Mount Washington … Sheriff Arin Hanson who was in charge of the investigation …” **  
**

“Thanks for having me, Danny …” static cut in as the bus moved further from a radio tower. **  
**

“... listeners an update on Tyler Oakley and Troye Sivan, the American and Australian, respectively, YouTube celebrities who are still missing … “ **  
**

“One year ago tonight,” this was the sheriff again, “the men left the safety of their friend, Connor Franta, another Youtube personality’s family lodge and headed out into a snow storm …” the static came back, longer this time, before the road turned back inward. **  
**

“... foul play?” the host asked. **  
**

“Not officially, no. There is one individual we’re considering a person of interest, but his location is currently unknown. He has an interesting history with the Franta family. He had warned them against …” The man listening held his phone up and closer to the window, “... and claimed the land was sacred to his forefathers.” The listener snorted under his breath. There’s America for you.  **  
**

“You know there is still that old sanatorium on the mountain. Could he be hiding there?” **  
**

“Officers did search the grounds, but … the guys themselves couldn’t have made it that far.” **  
**

“Something about that mountain seems to breed tragic events.” **  
**

“More than you know, Danny.” **  
**

“Well, thank you for joining us, Arin. … to all the Youtubers there that night … Connor Franta on this, the anniversary of the mysterious disappearance of his friends Tyler Oakley and Troye Sivan.” **  
**

The radio feed cut to a video Connor had posted on his, until then, inactive Youtube account a week ago. The listener had watched it before. **  
**

It started without the usual intro of Connor’s CF logo rolling on screen then beating like a heart, and instead cut right to an out of focus Connor sitting far from the camera. He rushed his normal greeting so it melded into one single syllable — “Heywhatsupyouguys!” He then laughed and moved forward to mess with the camera. **  
**

“Okay, let’s try this again,” He came into focus and settled back closer to the camera. He looked just like he did the last time the listener and anyone else had seen him — maybe a bit thinner, and there were slight bags under his eyes, but the same green eyes, same thick eyebrows, and nearly the same smile. “Alright. Hey, what’s up you guys, sorry about that, it’s been a while. It is beyond great to have you guys all back this year. First, I wanna say I’m excited to be able to welcome all my friends again to the annual Blackwood winter getaway, woo!” he threw his arms up in a little cheer. **  
**

“So, um,” he continued, “let’s just take a moment to … address the elephant in the room. I know, you’re all probably worried about me, and I know it’s gonna be tough on all of us going back after what happened last year, but … I just want you all to know … it means …” he paused to take in a shuddering breath, “it means so much to me that we’re doing this. And I … I know it would mean so much to Tyler and Troye that we’re all still here together, thinking of them and whatnot. I really want to spend some time with each of you — I kind of owe it after a full year of radio silence — and just … share some moments we won’t forget. For,” he grinned at the camera, “for the sake of the guys, you know? Okay, so!” he started laughing and threw his arms up in the air. “Let’s party like we’re fucking pornstars, okay?” he started laughing even harder, “I have no idea why I just said that. Let’s just make this a weekend we’ll never forget, okay? Yes!” **  
**

The video ends there and the listener turns off his phone, finishing the long drive in silence. **  
**

The bus pulls up to a small wooden structure in front of a wooden arch. A sign hangs from the arch, proclaiming  _ Blackwood Pines _ . The man gets off the bus and passes under the arch, not noticing the figure in the shadows behind him. The man, named Felix Kjellberg, but called PewDiePie by nearly 40 million people, had many good qualities — funny, adventurous, honest. Observant was not a quality of his. **  
**

He took a couple steps forward, but stopped when he heard something rustling in the woods. “Hello?” he called out. “Is someone there?” No answer. “Slenderman?” he tried again before laughing and moving on down the snow covered path. He came to a wrought iron fence and tried to open it. All he managed to do was shake it. Felix noticed a piece of paper stuck to the gate and picked it up.

_ The gate’s busted. **  
** _

_ CLIMB OVER!!!! **  
** _

_ ~ Phil _

“Oh, come on, really?” Felix muttered. He stuck the note back on the gate (even though he was probably the last person there) and moved around to the stone wall of the iron gate. He looked up at the stones that looked more secure and the stones that would yield a faster passage up. “Phil probably just stepped over it,” he muttered under his breath. **  
**

 

** Safe **

** Quick  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we saw the last remaining member of the Rainbow Trinity (don't question it, just go with it), we got to see Pewds (it's so weird writing Felix instead of Pewdiepie), and got a Game Grumps cameo! Pretty productive chapter, if I do say so myself. Also, Dan and Phil are giants. No one denies it.
> 
> I got 86 times more kudos than I thought I was going to get, so the QTE's involved in climbing this wall will count.
> 
> Polls close at 6:30 pm EST!


	9. Friendship (Quick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 DME was used and 2 QTE's

Felix laughs at the idea of going the safe route and instead goes for the more precarious and faster route over the wall. He almost slipped once and had to jump, but he made it to the top of the wall and stood. “Of course I’m a fucking parkour master when no one’s around,” he muttered. He jumped down, landed on his feet, and continued walking towards the cable car station.

He stopped as a small squirrel darted in front of him. “Hey bro,” he said softly. He pulled a pack of airplane peanuts out of his pocket and poured them out in his hand. Felix crouched down and held his hand out to the small animal. _Don’t bite me, don’t bite me, don’t bite me …_ he thought as the creature sniffed his hand and eventually grabbed a nut before scampering away.

Felix tossed the rest of the peanuts into the woods and continued down the path. Just before the station there was a large rock with a wooden plaque on it. He skimmed the words. _… Butterfly Prophecies … Death: Black … Danger: Red … Loss: Brown … Guidance: Yellow … Fortune White … Visions of the future …_ just a lot of superstitious bull. He moved on to the cable car station.

There was a map of the mountain with red paint on it spelling out _THE PAST IS BEYOND OUR CONTROL_. Felix looked around behind him. “Shit, Slenderman, you sure you’re not here?” No response, obviously.

He shook off the erie feeling and went to the bench in the station. A galaxy backpack was on the bench with a phone partially poking out. “Phil?” Felix called out. “Are you here?” No answer. He inspected the backpack closer. “Your phone’s here …” he muttered. “You’re not in the bag are you?”

At that moment, the phone started buzzing, alerting a text.

 

**Close bag**

**Snoop**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually does affect something, not something major though.


	10. Friendship (Close The Bag)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the dialogue doesn't exactly match up, out of 4 Youtubers who I watched for this choice (Mark, Jack, Pewds, and Joe Sugg - yes, Joe Sugg, a guy who probably only made a gaming channel out of irony) all chose to snoop. Faith in humanity - dropping by the minute.

Felix’s conscience won out (and it sounded a lot like his girlfriend), so he zipped the bag up. Just as he did, Phil popped up behind him, effectively jumpscaring him. Felix caught his balance on the slippery ground and cut off his Swedish cursing. Phil started laughing.

“Shut up, the Freddy games gave me PTSD!” Felix shouted as the taller man continued to laugh.

“What were you even doing?” Phil asked.

“Your phone was buzzing and it almost fell out. I put it back in and zipped it up,” the Swedish man answered honestly.

Phil smiled, “Thanks!” he stepped forward and picked up his backpack. He unzipped the pocket and took out his phone. He grinned at the screen before typing a response. He looked up to see Felix wearing a shit eating grin. The protective, charitable, humorous man shrunk back and put his phone away. “What?” he asked.

“Who was that?” Felix asked, knowing full well who it was. Phil’s cheeks reddened, but that could have been the biting wind.

“Oh! So!” Phil said, moving and _flawlessly_ changing the subject. “I found something kind of amazing.”

“Oh really? Something amazing?” Felix asked. Phil rolled his eyes, but laughed. “And what would that be?”

“It’s a surprise!” Phil proclaimed. He started walking around the station to the back. “C’mon, it’s really cool!”

Felix followed Phil until a piece of paper caught his eye. It was taped to the wall of the cable car station and the top part was ripped off. It was obviously a wanted poster and the picture was torn off, leaving only a neck and a white t-shirt visible. The poster read:

CHAPMAN, JIM

Sex: Male

Height: 6’ 3” (1.905m)

Last known address: Blackwood Pines

Last seen: 3/16/1998

Wanted in connection with first degree arson, as well as various death threats.

Anyone with information regarding this dangerous criminal should contact the BAMF immediately.

 

“Oh, dude, look at this,” Felix said. Phil came back over and looked at the poster.

“Creepy. Do you think we’ll get visited by America’s Most Wanted?” Phil asked.

“Well, considering it’s from ‘98, and we’re in _Canada_ , I’d say no,” Felix answered. The Brit grinned bashfully and tried to turtle into his parka.

“I forgot Canada and America were different countries,” he mumbled as Felix laughed. Phil led him around to the back and threw his arms out. “Ta-da! Pretty sweet right?”

“Ah, sweet isn't really the word I’d use. What’s this even doing here?” Felix said, looking at the shooting range and hunting rifle. Phil shrugged, brandishing the weapon. Felix took a precautionary step back.

“Probably Connor’s dad or something,” he said. “Wanna try?” he offered.

Felix shook his head. “Dude, do you even know how to shoot?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, putting bullets in the rifle (because why would it be loaded after being abandoned for a year?), “I’m from the North.”

“Uh … Is that a Britain joke? ‘Cause I don’t get it.” Felix said.

Phil brought the gun up and closed one eye, looking down the barrel at the various sand sacks and bottles and cans. He aimed for the sack hanging farthest away and pulled the trigger. The bullet embedded itself in the corner of the sack. He aimed the gun at a soda can resting on an (hopefully) empty oil drum, knocking it right off. He shot another can and a sack in quick succession.

“Total MLG,” Felix said dryly. Phil put down the gun with slightly shaking hands. No matter what kind of upbringing he had, he was still nervous around guns. He faced Feli with a smile. “But, I’m gonna guess it was a case of beginner’s luck,” he finished.

“Oh really?” Phil asked. He picked the gun back up and shot a beer bottle far from where he was.

“Noob. Anyone can shoot a bottle that big that close,” Felix taunted, jestingly. Phil gave Felix a scrunched up face as a squirrel scampered up onto an oil drum to check out some acorns. Phil picked the gun back up.

**Shoot the squirrel**

**Shoot a sack**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, when Jim Chapman was 11 he did something that got him on Canada's Most Wanted list. It does not get anymore metal than that.
> 
> Also he was 6'3". #seemslegit
> 
> Sorry for the long-ish absence, hectic week at school. I'm gonna try to get the next one up soon.


	11. Friendship (Shoot the Sack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you would all rather steal from someone than harm an animal. Okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what everyone needs to do? Watch a Markiplier video on mute. Just watch him, and make it something where he's moving around a lot. Fucking hilarious.
> 
> There's a monologue near the end of Mark's 1st episode and he spends that whole time making the most ridiculous face, it's the best.

Phil shot a bag hanging from a tree. The squirrel got scared from the noise and scampered away. Phil cheered. “Who’s the noob now?” he asked. Felix laughed and shook his head. Phil brought the gun back up and Felix turned to the station.

“Hey, sharpshooter, the car’s here,” Felix told him.

“Aw, but I’m just getting good at this!” he whined. Felix rolled his eyes and made his way to the station.

“C’mon Phil, the cable car waits for no man!”

Phil put down the gun and followed Felix back to the cable car station. He cast a glance to the wanted poster as he passed and decided to make small talk to make the silence a bit less awkward. “It’s kinda weird being back up here after a year,” he said. Felix went into the station.

“I know. I started having, like, war flashbacks as soon as I got up here,” he agreed.

“How did you get a war flashback?” Phil asked, chuckling.

“You’re never too young for a war flashback!” Felix proclaimed, his voice echoing in the empty wilderness.

“A year goes really fast,” Phil commented as Felix futily pushed on the door.

“Why’s it locked?” the younger man asked.

“Oh, Connor said there was some homeless guy here before, so now he keeps it locked to keep people out,” Phil dug through his parka pockets and came out with a single silver key.

“All the way up here? Weird,” Felix muttered as Phil unlocked the door and entered.

The place was pretty drab on the inside, similar to its outward appearance. Felix went over to look at the progress of the cable car and Phil went further in to explore. He heard Felix comment about how far the car was. He looked at a faded poster on the wall. _Blackwood Pines Hotel & Sanatorium. For a healthy mind and body!_ He frowned. Didn’t sanatorium mean mental hospital?

Phil shook it off and went over to a small tv screen. It seemed to be jumping between several live shots, all grainy and spooky, à la Five Nights at Freddy’s. The screen jumped to a shot just outside of the station and a shadowy figure was right in the center. Phil let out a small yelp and stumbled backwards. He recovered and moved in closer to the screen. It stayed on the shot of the station, but the figure was gone. He leaned in closer ( _stupid mole vision!_ ) and felt something jerk his shoulder. He screamed louder than he would like to admit and started flailing his arms. He faced Felix, who was currently laughing his ass off.

“The,” he paused to get his breath back, holding his sides, “The car’s here bro.”

Phil pushed past the _still laughing_ Swede and grumpily slumped into the awaiting cable car. Felix followed and closed the door behind him. The car went forward with a jerk as Felix settled himself next to Phil.

“I wonder if coming back up here was a good idea,” Phil said after a moment of silence. Felix turned to him with a confused expression. “You know, getting everyone together on the anniversary. I mean,it was nice to hear from him and hear that he’s okay and whatnot, and Connor seemed excited, didn’t he?”

“Yeah he totally did! I haven’t seen him this excited about something in … forever, really.”

“Good, good.”

“It was definitely a good idea.”

“I hope everyone else does,” Phil said in that way of his that says he just wants everyone to be happy, but knows it can’t happen.

“Let’s just … let’s just not mention it, okay? Let’s just enjoy the trip,” Felix said. “It happened, and it was terrible, but we’re here for Connor now. Okay?”

“Okay,” Phil grinned. They made small talk the rest of the way, Phil telling Felix about how he and Dan met, both online and in real life. Felix made all those obnoxious kissing noises that grade schoolers make that made other eight year olds push others down a playground slide, and Phil pushed him, making the cable car shake. Phil white-knuckled the seat and Felix’s arm while he just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I was gonna make Chris's monologue the story of how Dan and Phil met, but anyone with google and/or an AO3/Wattpad account can figure that out. Just don't believe the versions where they end up "partying like fucking pornstars!" You will be disappointed.
> 
> Next chapter starts from the POV of a character in the game called Jess. Any ideas as to who that will be?


	12. Friendship (Jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My update schedule is not a thing that exists. I apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me trying to build suspense as to who the boyfriend is, you all know who it is

An Irishman sat on a bench outside a cable car station on a mountain in Canada. Add your own punchline.

The Irishman was one Sean “Jack” McLoughlin, and why was he freezing his potatoes off halfway around the world, you ask? Well, he was waiting for his LD boyfriend whom he hadn’t seen face to face since Indy PopCon. He was too excited to wait in the warm, comfortable lodge and instead opted for the snow covered dark wilderness. He’s quite smart.

The sound of a cable car creaking to a stop rang through the quiet mountain. Jack stood up from the bench and hurried to the door. Something hit it, and he jumped. He looked and saw a chuckling Felix and slightly annoyed Phil.

“Yeah, he’s on a jumpscare kick,” the British man said, rolling his eyes.

“Are you guys havin’ some sort of stroke?” Jack asked, laughing softly.

“The door’s stuck!” Felix yelled. Jack hit the green button next to the door, making a buzzing sound almost drown out the sound of the lock sliding out of place.

Phil and Felix stumbled out, with Felix making gagging noises. “Thank Jesus man,” he said, bracing himself on his knees and coughing. “You have _no_ idea how bad he farts!”

Felix and Jack laughed, Phil put his head in his hands and shook it. “You’re terrible!” he cried. He took his face out of his hands and crossed his arms. Felix looked at the still chuckling Irishman — more specifically, the paper in his hand.

“Boop,” he said, snatching it out of the younger man’s hand. Jack reached for it while Felix held him back.

One of the disadvantages of having a long distance relationship (and there were a lot) was the communication. His boyfriend and him had to leave at different times to get to the same place. Before his boyfriend left, he sent an email to Jack and Jack printed it out, taking it with him on the plane.

“Oooo, what’s this ol’ Jackaboy’s got? Seems like someone’s got a crush on the manliest let’s-player on the internet.”

“Oh come on, Felix,” Phil attempted to placate Felix while Jack tried to disappear into his parka.

“And just what kind of steamy smut written by twelve-year-old girls did he decide to bring on this trip? I wonder …”

Jack cleared his throat as Felix went to open the folded piece of paper.

**Insist. _Give that back!_**

**Explain. _We’re together now._**


	13. Friendship (Explain)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Halloween has passed. Do I care? Hell no. It's still Halloween until my favorite kickthestickz series updates. Author of said series, you know who you are.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. This is not how he wanted to have this conversation. “Alright, alright, guys, Mark and I are together,” he saw Felix and Phil give him surprised looks, obviously not expecting that answer. “We’ve been together for a couple years now, but we want to keep it quiet okay? The fans are already, ahem, enthusiastic enough.” He laughed a little, trying to brush the uncomfortable atmosphere off. He did, however take advantage of their stunned silence to take the email back from Felix.  **  
**

Felix shook himself out of his stupor and reached for the email again, this time making sounds like a child whose toy was being kept away from them. Jack managed to stretch his arms enough to keep it out of Felix’s reach. Phil got them to let up after some jesting threats from both sides (“Four older siblings, come at me bro!”). “Come on guys,” Phil said, laughing a little, “let’s get to the lodge. I’ve been in the city too long, I’m not used to nature again. Although,” he glanced out at the breathtaking mountain scape. “It is  _ so _ beautiful up here!” **  
**

“I know, right?” Jack said, stepping back and tucking the email into the back of his pants pocket. “You guys go on up to the lodge, I’ll be there soon. Just gonna wait, see who else is coming.” **  
**

“You mean Mark?” Felix sang. Jack swatted at him before retaking his vigil on the cold bench. Phil laughed and started walking up the trail, Felix following after him. Jack waved until they were out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know who, if any of you out there are younger/youngest siblings, but you have 2 options as the runt of the litter: Learn to fight back, or suck it up. And my older brother is a black belt, so I basically had 1 option. So headcanon that Jack, having four older siblings (girls don't play any less rough than guys, at least, I didn't) is a good fighter, at least enough to pin his youngest older brother when push comes to shove.
> 
> Kudos and subscribe to make sure BAMF Jack makes it through the night!
> 
> Next chapter should be up within the weekend.


	14. Friendship (PJ and Chris)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EVERYONE IN THIS FIC IS A DUDE WHAT DO I DO ABOUT PRONOUNS  
> an autobiography.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am 100% sure Mark has never interacted with PJ and/or Chris, nor will he ever. BUT, I'm calling suspension of disbelief! SO, ha!  
> Also, since they've never interacted, there's obviously none of the drama between them that their characters had. But I'll think of something. I always do ;)

“You’d think they’d make the lodge a little bit closer to the cable car station!” An angry Northern British man (shocker!) proclaimed, walking through an electronic gate. He had straight brown hair styled in what could almost be described as a stylish bowl cut. He set down his suitcase (why didn’t he bring a duffel bag?!) and stretched, his long lanky limbs reaching to the dark sky.

“Probably wouldn’t be as aesthetically pleasing,” his companion for the night said, carrying his own luggage (he had had the foresight to bring a lighter and more manageable bag). He was also tall, but his hair was curly and he had most likely given up on it.* He had bright green eyes that took in the scenery and may/may not have lingered on the hazel eyed Northerner a second or two longer.

“Well, where’s the bellboy when you need one?” the older of the two, Chris Kendall, fake-complained, not missing his boyfriend’s gaze and countering it with a suggestive smirk and eyebrow wiggle. PJ Liguori, the curly haired British Italian scoffed and picked up the discarded suitcase.

“Here, let me get this for you, _your majesty_ ,” PJ said, sarcasm rolling off him in waves as he continued walking.

Chris clasped his hands together over his heart. “My hero!” He exclaimed, going over and obnoxiously kissing PJ on the cheek.

“So gay,” PJ muttered at his boyfriend’s antics, a wide smile on his face nonetheless.

“You know what else was gay that we’ve done in the last hour?”

“CHRIS!”

Chris tilted his head back and laughed loudly as PJ got flustered. Teasing the younger man was one of Chris’s favorite pastimes.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being their footfalls crunching the snow on the ground and the rustle of animals in the trees and underbrush.

“I’m sort of getting chills,” Chris commented. PJ looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Chris had his head tilted down and his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing at least two layers under his winter jacket.

“We’ll be at the lodge soon,” PJ assured him.

“Not like that. ‘M getting creeped out.”

“Oh. Yeah.” PJ’s hands itched to run through his curly locks, a nervous tick he never seemed to shake.

“It’s gonna be weird seeing everybody back here,” the Northerner said.

“Definitely,” PJ said, inwardly wincing. All those words flying around his head and the one time he needs them, they fail him. “Look, Chris,” Chris glanced at him as they stepped onto a wooden bridge, “just … try not to let it bother you too much, okay? I know what you’re thinking and it’s not … just, don’t mention it until someone else does, alright? This is just supposed to be a relaxing vacation - lord knows we need one.”

“Yeah,” Chris agreed, nodding and walking a little bit taller. “Just a nice, calming, relaxing -”

Cue jumpscare.

The quiet and stillness of the mountain was shattered by two grown men shrieking like little girls and a third man yelling, and cursing as he landed unevenly on the cold ground.

The man who jumped out of practically nowhere was one Mark Fischbach, a half-Asian man who makes up the majority of tonight’s cultural diversity. How PJ and Chris missed him with his cotton candy hair is anyone’s guess. He was in his lucky flannel (under several layers - LA did not prepare him for this!) and had his glasses resting on his face, making his brown eyes seem a bit larger than they were.

While Mark laughed at their reactions, Chris and PJ tried to recover. “You,” Mark said between gasps of laughter, “you guys should have seen your faces!”

“You’re an ass!” Chris exclaimed.

“Oh, come on guys!” Mark defended, “It’s just a bit of harmless fun! Up in the woods, secluded cabin, twenty-something-year-olds pretending to be teenagers - it’s a campy horror movie!”

“Really? That’s what you choose to go with?” Chris said. PJ could tell he was just bitter about being scared.

“Guys, I was just trying to lighten the mood a little, you know? It’s supposed to be a fun weekend!”

PJ looked between the two Youtubers, not sure who he’d bet against in a fight and deciding not to test his luck.

**Threaten. _Not cool Mark._**

**Welcome. _We’re all friends here._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As someone with the chronic condition known as CAFH (Curly As Fuck Hair) I can tell you that there are some days when you look in the mirror, look at your hair, look at your arsenal of brushes, combs, hair ties, detanglers, defrizzers, de-everything-ers, look back at your hair, shrug, say “Fuck it”, and walk out the door. And those days occur more often than not.
> 
> *Sarah McLoughlin voice* To everyone else afflicted with CAFH, you are not alone. We can beat this, one day at a time. Together. #CAFHAwareness


	15. Friendship (Welcome)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is much later, but as stated previously: My update schedule is not a thing that exists. I apologize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I may have discovered the best possible thing ever. I have Mark’s playthrough on mute in one tab and Victorious by P!ATD in another and I SWEAR ON THE LIFE OF TINY BOX TIM, MARK’S ACTIONS PERFECTLY MATCHED THE SONG. Made my freaking day.

PJ smiled and put an arm around Chris, squeezing gently. “Come on, Chris you have to admit he got us good.” **  
**

Chris looked back at his better half, any residual anger dissipating at the sight of warm, familiar, loving, moss green eyes. Chris rolled his own hazel orbs, a smile threatening to break onto his face. He turned back to Mark. “Alright, alright, fine. You get this one free. But that’s it for the whole weekend, Mark! Any other shenanigans will result in retaliation of the pranking nature, understood?” **  
**

Mark fake saluted, followed by an “Oi, right, gov’nah!” in a _horrific_ attempt at a British accent. They chuckled at the American, who laughed himself and proceeded to walk past Chris and PJ. “Okay, well, I’ll be sure to behave myself,” he said while walking backwards across the bridge. “I’m just gonna head back to the cable car station, I’ll see you guys up there. It’s nice seeing you guys again!”

 “Nice seeing you, too!” Chris called and PJ waved as Mark turned as jogged down the mountain. The two of them turned and made their way up the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU COMMENT, I realize I skipped a choice. IN MY DEFENSE, the choice I skipped is a completely moot one. Emily asks if Matt can bring all the stuff the rest of the way up to the cabin while she goes back down to “talk with Sam”. If the player says no, I’m not leaving you alone, Emily bitches about Matt not trusting her and goes down anyway. This only serves the purpose of putting Emily and Mike, her ex, in a compromising position when viewed from a telescope-thingy that Matt looks through, and building tensions between Matt and Mike. 
> 
> 95% of that, if not 100%, does not apply to this story because:
> 
> A.) Mark and Chris/PJ never dated  
> B.) I ship kickthestickz WAAAAAY too much and I like Chris and PJ too much to make them have the kind of shitty relationship Emily and Matt had.
> 
> I CAN MAKE THIS WORK. I CAN MAKE THIS WORK. I SWEAR TO GOD I CAN MAKE THIS WORK. I AM 5’1” OF CONCENTRATED ANGER AND SASS, JUST YOU FUCKING WATCH ME MAKE THIS WORK.


	16. Friendship (Dan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whaaat, two chapters in a day???? Unheard of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter while listening to Jabba the Hut (PewDiePie Song) by Schmoyoho at least three dozen times. This is my life, these are my choices.
> 
> THIS CHAPTER DOESN’T EVEN HAVE PEWDIEPIE IN IT WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME *flips laptop*
> 
> Yes that is the only problem I see in my music selection.

Up on a wooden platform overlooking a scenic mountain, there was a telescope like one that would be seen at Mount Rushmore or other such attractions. Currently looking through that telescope was Dan Howell, British internet cult leader and known MySpace emo (well, at least he tried). He leaned back from the telescope to brush his brown fringe out of his brown eyes and leaned back down to be eye level with the device (life is not easy for those vertically inclined). **  
**

He moved the scope around, taking in as much of the scenery as he could in the moonlight. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and directed the scope to the source. He saw a figure disappear behind a thick group of trees carrying something glinting in its hand. He moved the scope to look a few meters to the side and … what was that? **  
**

Dan frowned and tried to zoom the scope in closer, only to be greeted by an unexpected and jumpscaring face quite close to the lens. And Dan has a habit of losing his ability to remain upright when jumpscared. He screamed, pinwheeled his arms, and fell right onto his ass, listening to laughter growing nearer as he did. **  
**

Chris popped his head into the pavilion with the telescope, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Dan greeted one of his best friends with two middle fingers in the air. “Fffffffffrick you, Chris,” he said, prompting more laughter from the Northerner.  **  
**

Chris did help him up, and apologized, blaming it on the jumpscaring bug that seemed to be circling the mountain. “Where’s Phil at?” he asked after pleasantries were exchanged. **  
**

“Oh, I was with my family all of last week while Phil stayed at the apartment, so we took separate flights out. He texted me and said he had gotten off the plane, and I was already on my way up by then,” Dan explained. “Where’s PJ? I kind of expected you two to be joined at the lips this weekend.” **  
**

“Oh, trust me my friend, we’ll be joined somewhere other than the lips,” Chris stated with a suggestive smirk that sent Dan cringing while they both laughed. “But, yeah, I told him I wanted to check out the telescope, so he took the bags up to the lodge. Speaking of, anything interesting?” he asked and gestured to the telescope. **  
**

Dan worried at his lip. That thing was still fresh in his mind, plus the unidentified figure, and he didn’t want to freak Chris, or anybody, out at something that was potentially nothing on an already stressful relaxing weekend. But then again, it could have been a trick of the light, or another occupant, or a friendly woodland Slendy, out for a stroll. Completely harmless. **  
**

 

** Mislead. _It’s busted_ _. _ **

** Encourage.  _Take a look_ .  
**


	17. Friendship (Encourage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it weren’t for the fact that Dan is essentially a white girl (based on how much Starbucks he consumes), he would do amazingly well at surviving a horror movie. Fear is your ally in such situations.

“Uh, yeah, sure, go ahead,” Dan shrugged and stepped aside for Chris to look through the telescope. He was probably being paranoid. That glinting thing was probably not a chainsaw that was to be used to rip their entrails out, and that other thing that freaked him out was probably just a moth. Or a tree. Or the Grudge. Perfectly harmless things like those.

Chris grinned and looked through the telescope. “This place is amazing, seriously! This view — _oh_.”

“‘Oh’ what?” Dan asked, trying to see what Chris was seeing.

“Uh … Who up here has green hair?”

“Green hair? I think, um, Jack does. Why?”

“Jack McLoughlin? Well then — hm? Oh. _Oh_ , okay. Yeah, that just happened — oooh, I didn’t know he could do that — or him. Or that.”

In that moment, though Dan will never admit it, he became every younger sibling ever. He reached for the telescope, though Chris held him off by pressing his boot against Dan’s chest and keeping him a leg's-distance away, while he observed through the telescope. “Who?! Do what?! I wanna _see_!”

Chris just laughed and kept him at bay. “Oh, look at that, they’re leaving, oh, too bad. Sorry Dan, no shipping action for you,” Chris apologized and pulled away from the telescope, looking anything but sorry.

“You’re an ass,” Dan said, pushing Chris off him and stepping back. Chris laughed and stumbled back a couple steps before righting himself.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he winked. Dan rolled his eyes. Chris pulled out his phone and squinted in the glare. “We should probably get to the lodge,” he said after seeing the time. He also saw the icon that meant he didn’t have signal. He slid his phone back in his pocket and he and Dan left the pavilion.

 

_Meanwhile, elsewhere on the mountain, about five minutes ago (give or take)_

 

Jack sat on a wooden bench outside the cable car station freezing his nips off. He blew into his hands and rubbed them together quickly - temperatures dropped fast on the mountain. He strained his ears for any sign of a cable car. When he heard none, he deflated a bit and looked at his book ( _The Martian_ by Andy Wier, a great read) and his phone, resting on either side of him.

**Read book**

**Check phone**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun little Easter Egg. If you're playing the game and you pick to read the book, you'll see the cover of the book which looks REMARKABLY like the cover of 50 shades of grey. Just saying.


	18. Friendship (Cell Phone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!

Pfft, yeah right, like he’s gonna check he’s read when he has his phone. He picked it up off the bench  next to him and pulled open Instagram, already situating himself into his standard selfie pose (you all know the pose - in the corner, looking at the camera like it just said something concerning and disturbing). He was pulled out of the trance by a swift, loud _thunk_ , right near his head. He jolted and looked around. He laughed when he located the source of the snowball attack.

“Oh, you big bag o’ dicks!” Jack laughed as Mark sauntered out to see him.

“Put yer hands up!” He declared, in a horrendous Southern accent (Meanwhile, in Mississippi, Ken felt a disturbance in the force). He stooped down to form another snowball, “We got ya surrounded!”

As soon as Jack could breath properly, he stood with his hands up. “Well, it looks like you’ve got me cornered, Sheriff Warfstache.” He walked toward the railing where a near-perfect snowball sat. He looked at a bench within sprinting distance with plenty of snow that would make a good base.

 

**Run to bench**

**Grab snowball**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't do accents without offending entire countries and starting wars. Watch, the South is going to secede again, just from that. Led by Ken.


	19. Friendship (Snowball)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 QTE used, 3 total.

Jack waited until Mark looked away to fix his floof before grabbing the snowball and holding it behind his back. “Well, I mean - hey!” Mark said, cutting himself off as Jack began running towards the bench. He tried to get behind a tree, but Jack was faster, and threw the snowball, nailing him right in the chest. Jack threw his arms up and yelled “Booyah!” still running to the bench.

Mark picked himself up, laughing. “Really Jackaboy? Booyah?” 

“Yes, booyah!” Jack called from where he was kneeling behind a picnic bench, forming another snowball. 

“Where’re you hiding little leprechaun?” Mark sang and stepped out from behind the tree he was using as a shield. Jack stood up and ran to a dead tree trunk, throwing his snowball at Mark as he called “That’s racist!” He heard it land on its target and looked over in time to see a white spherical projectile soaring towards him. He ducked his head down and dove behind the trunk. He heard Mark curse as the snowball sailed into the woods. Jack laughed and got another snowball ready.

Jack popped up and nailed Mark in the shoulder as he was running to another tree. “Ba-booshky!” Mark screamed and laughed at the Irishman. “N-no camping!” the American yelled when he got some of his breath back. Jack jumped behind a generator and pulled together a snowball. He glanced up.

Mark wasn’t in perfect view, but Jack could still see him. There was a small bird in the way though.

 

**Throw snowball**

**Wait for better shot**


	20. Friendship (Wait)

Jack waited a second and the bird flew away. Mark moved away from the structure he was crouched behind and began looking for the Irishman. Jack stood up and hit Mark with the snowball hard, pushing him onto the ground with the force of it. They were both still laughing, adrenaline fueling most of it. Mark rolled on the ground and picked himself up. “Ya shouldn’t have done that, Irish bastard!” 

Jack stepped out, looking around for the American. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna - HEY!”

“HAAA-BERSKY!*” Mark all but tackled the younger man to the ground near a telephone pole. They rolled in the snow a minute, a mess of giggles, until Mark ended up on top of Jack, bracing his weight on his arms.

“Ha-bersky? Really Mark?” Jack asked, still breathless from laughter.

“How is that any worse than ‘ba-booshky’, huh?” Mark countered. Jack laughed at the older man and finally really  _ looked _ at him, the first chance he’s gotten since the last con. His glasses were fogged up a little, obscuring the view of his melted chocolate eyes. His pink floof was falling in front of his face, almost touching Jack’s. He had been talking about dying it blue, but all Jack could notice about his hair was the way the soft snowflakes landed in it. Mark seemed to notice Jack’s silence, and a smile slowly creeped onto his face. He leaned down, getting closer to Jack. “I really missed you, Jackaboy.”

“I missed you, too, Markimoo,” Jack whispered.

 

**Grab snowball**

**Kiss Mark**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Actual Markiplier quote. Seriously, check his wiki.
> 
> Question: Should I count those timed target things as QTEs from now on? This story is not even through the first section of the game and already it has over two hundred and thirty kudos! That's absolutely INSANE! Thank every single one of you so much for that [and extra thanks to those of you who hit kudos, logged out, then hit kudos again. It's not cheating, it's smart business skills ;)]. However, I'm 90% sure we could choose every wrong choice and play the game twice and there would still be less than two hundred QTEs. And honestly, where's the fun if you can't see some of your idols get gruesomely murdered?
> 
> *vlogger voice* Let me know what you think in the comments below, thanks! And don't forget to choose! (I'm talking to fangirls, like there's even gonna be a choice)


	21. Friendship (Kiss)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timed targets will from here on out be counted as QTEs

Jack met Mark halfway and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, relishing in the first physical contact they’d had in months. Mark leaned down closer, their chests touching. Jack tangled his hands in Mark’s too-long hair. For that moment, they were the only two on the entire mountain.

Unfortunately, the human need for air kicked in (stupid lungs), and they broke apart. “Wow,” Jack murmured, breathless.

Mark cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow?”

Jack laughed, “Wow. Save some for later, man.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mark said, dropping his voice as low as he could, “there’s _plenty more_ where that came from, Jackaboy.” His hair fell in front of his eyes and his grin stretched comically wide. Jack laughed harder. “What’s so funny?”

“You look like evil Google and you’re using the voice you used for the cat from Fran Bow!” Jack answered between laughs. Mark wiggled his eyebrows again, chuckling under his breath.

“Oh really?” he asked, his voice even deeper. “Does me sweet talking you in a voice reserved for a cartoon cat turn you on, Sean?”

Jack stopped laughing and gave him a deadpan look. He pushed Mark’s face away with the declaration of “Okay, alright, we’re done.” Mark collapsed into laughter and fell to the ground next to Jack. The Irishman looked over at the laughing goober next to him, snowflakes dotting his face and glasses now, and smiled.

Jack stood up. “Alright, time to go up to the lodge. My balls’re gonna freeze to the fockin’ ground.” He faced Mark who was holding his hands up, making grabbing motions like a child. Jack rolled his eyes and smiled before pulling him up.

  
The two stumbled and chuckled and kissed once more before walking up the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: We visit the friendly neighborhood psychiatrist Dr. MatPat!


	22. The Analyst (2.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the notes

You find yourself in the office of Dr. Patrick once again. But, it’s different, this time. Any indication of the warm, homey feeling he was trying to give his office earlier is gone. It’s darker, all lights are turned off. The only illumination comes from the large window he’s standing by, but it’s night. You can’t feel a chill, but you know it’s cold. Dust, or maybe stray snowflakes, drift in through the light.

Dr. Patrick turns around and looks at you, as though he weren’t expecting you to be there. “Hello again,” he says. His can of Diet Coke is absent and his hands are clasped behind his back as he walks to you. “And how are we feeling?” he asked, sliding into his large chair. You make no move to answer him. He pulled the cord on his writing lamp, bringing some form of light into the drab office. You squint in the glare of it as he continues talking. “I feel like we made some good progress last time. But, I am growing concerned about your condition.” He crosses his legs and settles one hand on his knee while the other one reaches into a drawer behind his desk and pulls out a leather bound notebook.

“This time,” he pauses, why does he always pause like that? He flips through the pages of the book until he finds what he’s looking for, “we’re going to try to understand the root of your anxiety. Pick up this book,” he places the book in front of you, “flip through the pages. You’ll see a pair of pictures and symbols, and I want you to identify which one makes you the most anxious.” He positions a file on his crossed knee and takes up his fancy pen.

 

  1. **Men or Women**
  2. **Planes or Crowds**
  3. ****Heights or Drowning****
  4. ******Snakes or Rats******



 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I warned against this earlier. This section is just picking between two things, and the book changes with what you pick. Other aspects of the game change as well. So, for each pair, pick which one makes you the most uneasy. You cannot just write 'rats' and nothing else, your vote will not be counted. Either pick all four, or none, please and thank you!
> 
> AS OF JANUARY 30TH AT 1:37 EST, POLLS ARE CLOSED.


	23. The Analyst (2.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same rules as last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I should have mentioned it before, but here it is now:  
> You don't have to divulge your fears. If you had a traumatic experience with snakes when you were younger, you don't have to write that with your choice. If it's personal, you don't need to tell me or anyone else who might be in the comments section.  
> If writing it out helps, then by all means, go right ahead. If not, then a one word answer would suffice.  
> But to those who commented "As stupid as it is," or "I know, that's bad," or anything to that effect:
> 
> Your fears are valid. You do not need to feel ashamed because men make you more anxious than women, or the thought of drowning makes you shake. Your fears are justified. Your fears are valid.

You oblige with Dr. Patrick’s command with some silent, colorful commentary on exactly where he can shove his fancy pen and look at the first set of pictures. A rather mean looking man and an equally irate woman. You point to the man with little hesitation. 

You flip the page without confirming that the doctor had seen your choice and looked at some amazingly drawn pictures of a 747 and a crowded city street. Who had drawn these and why were they taped in here so crudely? You point at the crowd.

Flipping the page again, you see two very morbid drawings. The one on the left was from the perspective of a woman in sharp heels standing on a ledge overlooking a city. The one on the right was an arm sticking out of a body of water, a silent scream of help heavily implied. Heights or drowning. You point at the arm.

You had a bit more trouble with the next set of pictures. A coiled, hissing snake or a mangy, scuttling rat. It’s close, but you pick the poisonous reptile.

You finally look up at Dr. Patrick. He was diligently scribbling away at his paper.

 

  1. **Guns or Knives**
  2. **Snakes or Cockroaches**
  3. **Clowns or Scarecrows**
  4. **Gore or Crows**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHIL!!!!!!!!
> 
> Polls are closed as of 11:40 AM EST on February 5th, 2016


	24. The Analyst (2.3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCHOOL'S CANCELLED TODAY!! You know what that means ...
> 
> ALL DAY FANFICTION BINGE!!!!!!! *MLG air horns in background* WOOO!!

The next set of pictures you see is a gun and a knife. You think back to an episode of some Canadian SWAT team show you saw at 2 a.m. one day because you couldn’t sleep (you haven’t slept in a long time): “A knife’s as bad as a gun. It never sticks, never jams, never runs out of ammo, and you don’t need training to know how to use it.” You choose the knife.

Next is a picture of a snake versus a picture of a cockroach. You frown. You had chosen the snake earlier. What if you had chosen the other option, what was it? A rat? What if you had chosen that earlier? Partially because you want to test the theory and because the thought of a cockroach touching you makes your skin crawl, you choose the roach over the snake and look at Dr. Patrick. His elongated nose casts a shadow over his face.

The next picture set looks like something out of American Horror Story. A clown with a grotesquely stretched grin on its face, showing almost everything in its mouth and an evil glint in its eye, and a scarecrow that seems to be exactly like the scarecrow from the picture he showed you before. It sets your nerves on a razor’s edge and you quickly pick that and turn the page.

After that, you see a pile of organs next to a crow mid-flight. Crows symbolize death, but you are one for real world danger rather than symbolic danger. Organs in a pile means they are not in someone’s body, and that body is dead as your childhood pet. Gore scares you more than crows. 

Just as you think you are starting to relax, Dr. Patrick slams his hand on the desk and your heart jumps to your throat. You glare up at him, but he wears a disinterested smirk. “Sorry,” he says, looking anything but, “did I startle you?”

It takes all your self-control not to scream at him. You settle for rolling your eyes and sighing through your nose.

He reached underneath the desk and pulled out an old school metronome. Why does he just have one of those lying around under his desk? He starts it and tells you to speed up, it’ll make the answers more honest and instinctual. You mentally tell him you’ll go at whatever pace you damn well please as you look back down at the book.

 

  1. **Cockroaches or Spiders**
  2. **Gore or Needles**
  3. **Scarecrows or Zombies**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering why I no longer put a time limit on choices, it's because my unreachable goal for readers was fifteen at the beginning of this. Now? Over 5000 hits, 300 kudos, 60 subscriptions, and 30 bookmarks! I'm not putting time limits because this is EXPONENTIALLY more successful than I could have ever hoped, and thank you all so, so, SO much!


	25. The Analyst (2.4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last set of choices for this appointment!

You continue flipping through the book with the metronome ticking in your ear. You vaguely wonder how he can record your choices, given that you are holding the book under the table, but don’t dwell on it. You suspect he has cameras all over, watching you.

Cockroaches or spiders? Spiders, absolutely. Cockroaches make your skin crawl, but spiders are merciless killers. You saw one in your bathroom once and didn’t go back in for the rest of the day. 

Next, a pile of guts or a needle. Your throat tightens and your arm starts to hurt. Bad memories of doctor’s visits flash through your mind and you quickly choose needles before turning the page.

Next, the exact same picture of the scarecrow next to a Walking Dead-level zombie. It looks much more human than stereotypical zombies. You know that zombies are impossible and would not happen in real life, but if there were a zombie apocalypse, you’d die first. Like, first ten minutes. And not death by zombie, it’d probably be something stupid like a riot, or slipping on a banana peel and impaling yourself on a piece of broken glass or something. You pick zombie.

 

  1. **Needles or Dogs**
  2. **Needles or Storms**



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to avoid the consecutive decisions, but it's honestly not worth it when these are the last two choices.
> 
> POLLS CLOSED


	26. The Analyst (2.5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone want me to do the Previously On parts? I mean, this is written down, if anyone wants to see what happened prior, they just need to go back. But, if people want me to, I will, gladly.

You frown at the picture of the needle next to a picture of a dog. There’s no way that’s a coincidence after you  _ just _ picked it. You pick the needle, only having good memories with dogs all your life.

The next page also has a needle, this time next to a storm. You frown harder. You pick needles again (you think storms are cool, especially when they turn the entire air yellow). You’re starting to get annoyed. How long is this “exercise” going to last?

As if sensing your thoughts, you hear the metronome stop and you look up at Dr. Patrick. “That’s … very interesting. Thank you for answering so diligently.” He scribbles something down in your file and looks up at you. “Spiders, zombies, and needles. Sounds like a fun Friday night!” He goes for an amicable grin, but as always, it comes out unnerving. He chuckles a bit and before it can be worked up into a full blown evil laugh, a grandfather clock somewhere chimed. “It seems we are once again out of time.” He began packing up his notes on you. “But I promise we will talk again very soon.” 

Why did that sound more like a threat than a promise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we're done with this section of Dr. Hill creepiness! Sorry you had to be him MatPat, but you DO run the smartest show in gaming. It comes with the territory.


	27. Darkness (9 Hours Until Dawn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Oscars! I'm not watching, I have to deal with people tomorrow (ugh) so I can't watch the whole thing. :/ Just let me know about any nip-slips, Jen-trips, or surprise winners (cough cough DICAPRIO cough cough) in the comments if you like.

Phil puffed a bit in the thin air. “Does this mountain seem bigger to you?” He asked his companion. All he got in return was a chuckle.

“Try climbing it, like, twice a year your whole life, then talk to me,” Connor Franta said. He had his arms crossed, and a grin on his face. Anyone else might have seen him as amicable, friendly, happy even. But if one were to look closer, they would see heavy bags under his eyes and a certain light absent.

“Well, you grew up with it, it probably feels like it’s shrinking,” Phil countered. He was cautious in his banter with the fellow Youtuber. Connor had had a rougher year than the rest of them and Phil wanted to make sure he was okay, first and foremost. He pulled out his phone and played around a bit with it. “Don’t suppose there’s any chance of cell service up here? I’m suffering withdrawals already,” he joked.

“If you have a spare million bucks lying around I’d be happy to get a tower up here,” Connor offered, laughing slightly.

“Funny you should mention that,” Felix said, coming up the trail from behind the two guys. “I — oh, wait, shit. Must’ve left it in my other jacket. That, or Edgar took it to go clubbing while me and Marzia are away.”

“Marzia’s away?” Connor asked as the three got closer to the cabin.

“Yeah. She had to postpone her trip to Italy to see her family ‘cause she was sick, so she should be there by now, depending on the time difference and shit. The pugs are with Zoe and Alfie,” The Swede answered.

Connor nodded and faced the three other men loitering around the steps of the cabin. Chris, Dan, and PJ looked up when Connor approached them. “Hey guys,” he offered. “You all get up here okay?”

Dan nodded. He was sitting on the steps, as bundled as anyone but still shivering. “Yeah! Well, more or less, but it’s good to see you,” he smiled at Connor before flicking his eyes over to Phil. 

Chris and PJ exchanged greetings with the American before moving on to talk with Felix about a possible collab when they got back to Brighton. Phil and Connor moved up to the cabin door.

 

**Gossip. _Jack and Mark ..._**

**Worry. _You doing alright?_**


	28. Darkness (Worry)

“Hey,” Phil said, his caring nature coming through. “How’ve you been? I mean, I know it must be really tough without —”

“Stop.” Connor said, looking away from Phil.

“I just meant —”

“No, I know what you meant. And, I’m pretty much over it. Just wanna have a good time, you know? Like we used to.”

Phil nodded, not completely at ease with the situation, but willing to let it slide for the moment. He would keep an eye on the American for the rest of the weekend, just in case. Connor went over and fiddled with the door, muttering to himself when it wouldn’t open.

“What’s wrong, is it frozen?” Phil asked, moving closer.

“Every freakin’ year,” he answered.

“Is there another way in?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, but they’re all locked.”

Phil looked around. “Could we get in through a window or something? Maybe we could, I dunno, get it open somehow?”

Connor looked back at him and smiled. “Are you saying we should break in?”

Phil scuffed his feet and laughed a bit. “No! Breaking and entering is a crime. But … is it really breaking and entering when you own the place we’re breaking into and entering?”

“Not as long as I don’t report you,” Connor replied with a grin. “Lead the way.”

Phil and Connor went down the stairs. Connor began to go around the side, but Phil stopped in front of a certain Internet cult leader shivering at the foot of the stairs.

“Hey Dan!” Phil greeted, his face lighting up as it usually did when he was around the younger male. He smiled back.

“Hey Phil. You get up here okay?”

“Yup! The walk was kind of hard, but not too much. I told you the gym was a good idea!” The two of them chuckled. “How’s your mum?”

“She’s good. Still asking when you’re gonna come down for Christmas, but good.” Dan answered.

There was a moment of silence as Phil figured it was time to address the elephant on the mountain.

 

****

**Unsettled.** _**It’s weird to be back.** _

**Confident.** _**Nice being back.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama Howell ships Phan. Any objections? Didn't think so.


	29. Darkness (Confident)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saint Patrick's day! If only this were a jacksepticeye chapter

It really seemed like Connor wanted to put it all behind him, so Phil was going to do just that. “It’s nice getting away from the city for a while, isn’t it? Clean air and all that.” Phil said.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. “Too bad there’s no cows up here. Then it’d be just like your childhood home,” he said snickering.

“Hey!” Phil objected, laughing as well. Connor cleared his throat behind him. Phil checked back, then waved goodbye to Dan, going with Connor to the back of the house.

“How’ve you and Dan been doing?” Connor asked, with a certain tone in his voice.

“Fine …” Phil said cautiously. He and Connor stopped and faced each other. They were a good distance away from Dan and the others by then.

“Phil. Come on. There’s no phones, barely any internet, no _fans_. Not to be crude, but … you hittin’ that or what? If not now, _when_?! Is it _ever_ going to happen? You can only eye-fuck your best friend for so long.”

Phil shifted, debating how he could respond.

 

**Agree. _Yeah … absolutely._**

_**Protest. Cut it out, man.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my feet hurt and someone keeps calling my home phone on the number 000000. Reasons why I will survive a horror movie: I send it to voicemail. Don't answer the spooky number white bitches, just start running!


	30. Darkness (Protest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy MCR Day all y'all little emos out there!
> 
> Also:
> 
> YOU KNOW WHAT I HAD TO DO TODAY?! WRITE A 5 PARAGRAPH ESSAY. TWICE. THE SAME ESSAY, TWICE. HANDWRITING. FOR A STATE MANDATED TEST THAT WILL PARTIALLY DETERMINE WHETHER I GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL. YOU KNOW WHAT I’M DOING NOW? LISTENING TO NINJA SEX PARTY SONGS AND WRITING. WRITING AFTER I SPENT OVER 3 HOURS WRITING ABOUT SOME BULLSHIT THAT BOO RADLEY DID. YOU KNOW WHY? BECAUSE I FREAKIN’ LOVE YOU GUYS. THAT’S WHY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all are no fun. You’re completely right, but no fun. I know Phil isn’t capable of saying “I’d tap dat”, but we can dream.

“Connor, cut it out,” Phil said, nearly forgetting the promise he and the other six guests made when they were first invited about being nice to Connor no matter what.

“I mean if you’re not going to, there’s about five million people who will …”

“C-can you just knock it off?” Phil all but pleaded, nervously chuckling. He looked back in Dan’s direction, in case he could somehow hear them.

“Alright, alright,” Connor relented. “Just remember what I said. No fans, no cameras, nothing but beautiful, isolated, _mood-setting_ mountains. If ever there was a more perfect opportunity …”

 

**Agree. _Maybe you’re right._**

**Disagree. _I’m not sure..._**


	31. Darkness (Agree)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *angrily stomps to computer* *opens up new doc* *titles it "Reasons Why the Movie Allegiant Stole 2 Hours of My Life and Quite Possibly Gave Me Super-Cancer"* *50,000 words later* *narrating* The only good thing is that I made a friend. The person sitting behind me said "Well that was stupid" at the end and I turned around and said "I agree". I'm honestly just going to go to see the fourth installment (because it seems demeaning to movies everywhere if I call it a film) just so I can get a T-shirt that says "I SURVIVED ALL 4 DIVERGENT MOVIES". 
> 
> *looks up* *realizes it's been 18 days since I last updated* Oh yeah, I need to update this, don't I. I'll finish the other 50,000 words later. Hi everyone still sticking by this!

Phil felt his face heat up and he avoided Connor’s gaze as he shuffled his feet. “Maybe you’re right,” he muttered. He wasn’t going to say he had never thought about it, with all the phan art on the internet it was impossible for him _not_ to think about it. He glanced back up and saw Connor giving him a cheeky grin.

“I’m always right,” the American said, slapping Phil’s shoulder. With that, the two set off around the side of the cabin again.

“So what exactly is the plan for breaking into the lodge bud?” Connor asked.

Phil shrugged. “I never said I had a plan, I thought _you_ had a plan.”

“Well, _I_ don’t have a plan, it sounded like you had one.”

“Who was the one that suggested committing a felony in the first place?” Phil shot back, laughing a little.

“Well, you better think of a plan soon, or else there’ll be six guys out there, including one in particular, who will be freezing their buns off, and last time I checked, that’s not a good way to get laid.”

“Is that the only thing on your mind?” Phil asked. He stopped by a small wooden box on the side of the building. It had the sun shaded impression of an ax, along with the brackets used to secure such a weapon. Where there once was a pane of glass was now only broken shards.

“Being a recluse for a year doesn’t leave you with much to think about,” Connor said, pulling Phil from his thoughts.

They moved over to where Phil saw a large metal container. He got on the far side and Connor took the near. “Nice,” Connor said, getting a grip on the container, “we got a thinker over here.”

Phil braced his back on the container and on the count of three they pushed, pushed, pushed again until it was underneath the window. Phil climbed up and wrenched the window open. He wormed his way into the building, not realizing there wasn’t a surface for him to catch himself on. He floundered, flipped, and yelped until he hit the concrete floor on his back.

“I’m okay,” he called, his eyes squeezed shut, “I should’ve payed more attention in climbing class,” he muttered.

Connor, who was on the container and looking in on the Brit, chose that moment to chime in. “You mean gym?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Phil stood up, “With the running and climbing up the ropes …”

At that moment, the single bare lightbulb that had been turned on burst. Both guys jumped back and stared at the now empty socket. “Did I do that?” Phil asked, still not fully there after his fall.

“I … I don’t think so,” Connor said before reaching into his pocket. “Use this,” he said as he tossed Phil a small silver square of metal. Phil flipped the top and saw that it was a lighter. Not dwelling on _why_ Connor had a lighter, he flicked it on and let the small flame light up the area.

Connor clapped his hands. “Oh! I just got a great idea!”

“I’m listening.”

“Okay, so I _think_ I’ve got deodorant in the bathroom. You could use _that_ with the lighter!”

“How’s a stick of deodorant going to help?” Phil asked.

“Not a stick, a _can_.”

Phil looked between the lighter in his hand and Connor. “You want me to make a flamethrower?!”

“Just to melt the lock on the door! My friends and I would melt those little army guys all the time using this when we were younger,” the American calmly explained.

The Brit looked appalled. “American childhoods sound frightening.”

“We grew up on Grand Theft Auto. What did you think would happen?” Connor said. He looked behind him quickly before turning back to Phil. “Alright, I gotta sort something out. You okay to root around in the dark for a bit?”

Phil scrunched up his shoulders and looked around him. “No, but I will.”

“Thank you, Phil!” Connor called as he dropped out of sight.

Phil sighed and looked around, using the lighter to guide his way. He had never been in this part of the lodge and exploring using only a lighter to guide his way wasn’t an ideal situation. There wasn’t much to see in this room, which was more of a garage/workshop room than a basement. There were several shelves with paint cans or flower pots, an old rusted bicycle was leaning against one of those shelves near stacks of boxes with sheets over them. His shadow was thrown on the walls around him as he wandered into a small side room. This also had shelves and the one about level with his knees had a bit of torn newspaper on it. He picked it up.

 

_The Alberta Bugle_

_5th June 1997_

**_EX-JANITOR CONVICTED FOR ARSON_ **

_SWEARS REVENGE ON LODGE-OWNER’S FAMILY_

_by Bob Muyskens, Chief Reporter/KOWC_

_James Chapman was yesterday sentenced to 16 years in prison for aggravated arson committed on Blackwood Pines. Chapman was employed as the janitor of the mountain's old hotel for 28 years. However, the land was sold to a different family, and Chapman was fired._

_In a sensational twist, the sentencing ended with an enraged Chapman screaming obscenities at the new owner's wife. Calling her a “f------ whore”, he vowed to “get all of you, your f------ husband and kids”, and said that he would “make them suffer”. The owner’s wife had visibly struggled to maintain her composure throughout the case, and later claimed that though she was upset by Chapman's threats, she had full faith in the legal system to keep her and her family safe. She asked that her and her family’s names be kept a secret and that their privacy would be respected._

 

Well that is unsettling. Phil set the paper down and found his way out of the workshop. He looked around as he walked. He often forgot just how large this lodge was, and expensive. On the fancy faux-stone pillars were family pictures of Connor along with a couple pictures with friends that were taken on the mountain.

Phil desperately tried to ignore the sounds of creaks and groans (just the house settling, he assured himself), until he heard the unmistakeable sound of a door squeaking on its hinges and closing. He froze and looked around, his heart pounding in his chest. He cautiously continued, the house looking less expensive and more creepy by the minute. He went through a door to the main area of the house.

All the furniture was covered in sheets. The Franta family hadn’t been up there since the search was called off and dust riddled every surface. Phil crossed the living room area to the front door, where he could see his friends waiting in the cold.

 

**Scare them**

**Look for deodorant**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed, but I'm not doing the totems. There's no explanation as to how they show up in places like the Washington's house, and no explanation as to how they give the visions to the characters, or why the characters seem wholly unperturbed by the visions they saw. It was just a cheap foreshadowing tool and a little side collectible quest if you wanted more answers about the Wendigos and miners and sanatorium and girls. No totems here, but if you're interested there are several videos that have every totem scene and the Events of the Past movie. YouTube is your friend.
> 
> Oh yeah, and I found my favorite line in a song I've ever heard. Bonus points to whoever knows what song it's from: "If I could kill you, I would. But it's frowned upon in all 50 states. Having said that: Burn. _In. **HELL**._ "


	32. Darkness (Scare)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark won the Diamond Dick trophy in Hunie Cam Studios. This is his legacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mARK STOP CHANGING YOUR HAIR COLOR IT MAKES IT VERY HARD TO ESTABLISH CONTINUITY. But if you keep it red I can say it turned red with blood *evil laughter*

Phil smiled and crouched down a little so he wouldn’t be seen. “Wooo _OOOOO_ ooo _OOOOO_ ooo,” he imitated a ghost, adding the little finger, despite the fact that no one could see him.

He could hear whispers outside the door. “Very funny Phil,” Felix said. Phil popped his head up so he could see through the window.

“Really? I didn’t get you guys at all?” He asked, disappointed.

“Shouldn’t you be getting the door open?” Dan called.

“I’m working on it!” with that Phil set off further into the house. The living room had a big flat screen TV that wouldn’t turn on and an odd statue-like thing in the corner. He moved away from that quickly.

The next room, which looked like a dining room, had an answering machine with the light blinking in it. Phil pressed the play button, if only to confirm it had power. “ _One new message,_ ” the robotic woman’s voice said. “ _New message:_ ” a rather nasally voice replaced the automated one. “ _Hi Mrs. Franta - this is Sergeant Anous again. It's bad news, I'm afraid. We've been through the case files, and there's nothing we can do. He's a free man. We don't have the legal power to restrict his movement. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, so call me if you want to know more._ ” The message ended and the automated voice confirmed it was over. Phil frowned. That’s not good at all!

Phil shook it off and went through the house. A lot of the doors were locked, he assumed Connor had the keys. There was a picture on a table, not in a frame, and it looked worn, like someone had folded and unfolded it multiple times, or creased the edges. It showed Dan, Phil, and Tyler. They were all smiling at the camera, Dan and Tyler had their arms thrown out while Phil held the camera. Tyler’s owl tattoo was on full display in his short sleeves. Phil smiled sadly at the picture. It was the last time they saw Tyler before the accident. The date and their names were written on the back. He blinked quickly and put the picture back on the table.

Having a temporary brain fart, Phil went downstairs before remembering Connor’s bathroom was upstairs. While he was down there, Phil saw another picture. This one had Tyler, Troye, and Connor together. Their arms were thrown around each other’s shoulders and Tyler’s tattoo could be seen again. The back had the date and “Tronnler Reunion!!!” written on the back. He set it down and climbed the stairs to the top level of the lodge.

He walked past a set of windows open and pulled them shut. Way too cold for that. One quick walk through a confusing hall layout later, Phil had reached the bathroom. He checked the top of the sink and didn’t see a can, so he crouched down and pulled open the under cabinet doors. Right in the center of his line of view was a can of _Inferno for Men_. How ironic.

Phil reached for the can. Just before his hand made contact, a snarl was heard and a mass of gray fur and glistening teeth jumped out at him. Phil fell backwards, crying out as he landed on his side and the creature scampered past him. He lost track of it as it left the room and he grabbed the deodorant fast before kicking the cabinet doors shut.

He quickly made his way downstairs to the door. Dan and Felix were still at the door waiting for him.

“Hurry up,” Dan whined, rubbing his arms. “We’re freezing out here.”

Phil nodded and held the lighter and can as far from him as possible. As carefully as he could, he sprayed the can into the flames. It didn’t make a large explosion like it would have on TV. The can had been sitting there for a year, it lost most of the aerosol properties. It did make a steady flame that was just big enough to melt through the lock. Phil darted to the kitchen and grabbed an oven mitt before open the door for his friends (better safe than sorry!). He bowed with a smile on his face. Just as he was about to make a witty comment (“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all weekend!”), the thing from earlier shot out of the lodge, right past him. He let out a very manly squeak as it tore out into the snow, forcing Dan and Felix to separate.

The two outside chuckled and Chris, PJ, and Connor climbed the stairs. “What was that?” PJ asked.

“I don’t know!” Phill said. “Like, a little tiger, or bear or something.”

Connor threw his head back and laughed. “Phil, that was just a baby wolverine!”

“ _Just_?!”

Everyone piled into the lodge, kicking the snow off their boots and shoes. “Home sweet home,” Connor announced.

PJ set the bags he was carrying down. “Sweet might not be the word I use,” he muttered.

“I’m just glad to be inside,” Dan said, “even though it’s still pretty fudging cold in here too.”

“I’ll start a fire,” Connor offered, moving to the fireplace.

“This place barely looks any different,” Chris remarked.

“Nobody’s been up here,” Connor called from his crouched position by the fireplace.

“Even with all the police coming in and out?” Dan asked.

“I heard it’s been pretty quiet up here lately,” Phil explained.

The sound of stomping boots could be heard and seconds later Mark and Jack walked in. “We have arrived!” the Irishman announced, throwing his arms out. Mark shook his head fondly at him, his colored fringe flying every which way.

“Make yourselves at home,” Connor said. The two new arrivals nodded and took the couch, Mark with his arm resting on the back and Jack leaning into his side. Mark leaned his head down and whispered something that made the blue-eyed man laugh and hit his chest, saying something along the lines of “You bag a’ dicks!”

“And here I thought _we_ were gonna be the gayest couple on the mountain,” Chris “whispered” to PJ as he took a seat next to the Italian. Mark grinned in pride and Jack shrunk into his side a bit more. Mark saw this and went over to Connor. They had a quick, hushed conversation.

“Yeah, you know the way up to the cabin, just make sure you two come back down at some point,” Connor said to Mark. Jack stood up and the two of them went over to the doors that led out to the porch.

“We’re gonna go up to the guest cabin,” Mark announced. Dan, Phil, and Felix were standing by the stairs. “We’ll probably be back down here tomorrow morning, afternoon-ish.”

Jack had one hand entwined with Mark’s and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. PJ could make out ‘I brought’ before his other hand came up to block his mouth from the others. Mark’s eyes widened slightly. “Tomorrow night,” he corrected. The two laughed at the horrified looks around the room and left the lodge.

There was a beat of silence. “Welp,” Felix said, “I’m gonna go take a very long, very hot shower and try to erase those mental images. Maybe call Marzia, make sure she landed safe and make myself seem less alone compared to everyone here.”

“Have fun!” Chris called as he walked up the stairs to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T PLAY WITH FIRE CHILDREN
> 
> Also Poods is as much of a 7th wheel as Leo Valdez (sorry, Felix, it had to be someone)


	33. Darkness (Mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May the Fourth be with You, and also with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually shoves in as much fluff into this horror story as I possibly can*

Mark walked out to the railing of the porch where Jack was already admiring the enchanting scenery around him. The American didn’t say anything, just watched his boyfriend’s utterly relaxed posture. Mark could only imagine what he would be like in the woods where he grew up — they needed to visit there soon.

Jack turned around and smiled at Mark. “So,” he said, leaning his back against the railing as Mark approached him. “How far is this cabin?”

“Kind of far. Far enough that, as Connor put it, ‘a secluded, romantic, love den,’” he dissolved into giggles before he could even finish the sentence. He curled forward while Jack gripped the rail and leaned back as he bellowed laughter to the mountain.

“Wh-what?!” Jack gasped out. He wiped his eyes.

“Okay, I blame _you_ for that! Mr. ‘I-brought-Bean-Boozled’, whispering it like that. They probably think you brought a sex toy,” he broke down in laughter again.

Connor poked his head out through the door to the porch. “Hey pornstars!” (“Really, Connor?” “Well, some of my videos have ended up on PornHub, so he’s not that far off.” “Mark, _I swear_ —”) “You might want these,” he tossed a set of keys to Mark and he caught them _effortlessly_ (don’t listen to what eye-witnesses would describe as “desperate flailing and awkward fumbling” (just like his first ti- _never mind_ )).

“Thanks man,” Mark said. Jack moved over next to Mark in front of the stairs as Connor explained about them needing to turn on the path lights.

“Have fun, you two!” he bid as he went back into the cabin. The two remaining men joined hands and walked down the steps to the snowy ground. Jack veered off to the side so he was in front of a fence facing the life-barren scenery.

He pulled out his phone and waved it at the half-Korean. “For the ‘Gram?” he offered. Mark took the phone and turned on the camera, opting for the white-girl-patented ‘Back Camera Selfie’ shot. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around Jack’s shoulder. “You’re a doof,” he muttered, smiling, as he lined up the shot. Jack elbowed him and muttered something like “ _You’re_ the doof, doof,” as they both smiled. Mark took the picture and turned the phone around to look at the picture. A soft smile rested on his face as he observed their frozen faces, specifically Jack’s. He was mid-chuckle, his frosty blue eyes shining and his grin as beautiful as Mark had ever seen it. This wasn’t going on Twitter or anything — this was something Mark wanted to keep to himself.

They kept going on their way down the path. With the flashlight he was carrying, Mark noted a worn down wooden, painted sign nailed to a tree that said _PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING ._

“Alright,” Jack said, stopping about halfway down the path, “Dan and Phil. When d’you think their gonna get their heads out o’ their arse’s and finally get together? Felix and I got ten on it hap’nin’ on this trip, you in?”

 

**Agree. _Absolutely!_**

**Disagree. _Their business is their business._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many people thought that innocent bean Sean said something dirty last chapter? C'mon, speak up.
> 
> Oh yeah, I'm putting off an English project to do this. This is not the first time. And yet, I'm getting moved up to Honors English next year. Go figure.


	34. Darkness (Agree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm an aunt.

“Put me down for ten by the end of the night,” Mark decided. Jack laughed and Mark glanced at the gate in front of him. It seemed to have an electronic lock that wasn’t powered yet. He turned to the right and saw a small shack.

“That better not be the cabin,” Jack said cautiously.

“Don’t worry,” Mark called over his shoulder as he entered the shack and located the generator. “When have I ever been wrong?” He flipped a switch and pulled a cord like a lawn mower until the generator sputtered to life and lights clicked on over the path. He waved a cloud of gas away from his face and stood up. Had he turned around, he would have noticed a figure with a snow white mask and thick goggles with brown hair tucked under a worn beanie peering in through the dirty window of the shack.

He instead went out to Jack and saw the Irishman peering over his shoulder. Mark turned around, looking back into the shack, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The two shrugged off their respective feelings and went to the gate. “D’ya really want me to answer that?” Jack quipped back as Mark opened the gate with a flourish.

The younger male took out his phone and tapped a few things on the screen. Mark closed the gate behind him and as he turned around, a catchy pop song was playing out of Jack’s phone. Mark fondly shook his head at Jack’s … ehem, _unique_ dance style. His floof fell in front of his eyes, tinted blue in the light coming from the phone. “Get pumped!” Jack yelled, walking ahead of Mark.

The two men walked across a stone bridge and up a set of damp, rotted stairs, making conversation the whole way. About halfway down a path that reminded Mark of Firewatch in a way, Jack stopped. Mark stood at his shoulder, looking at his boyfriend worriedly. “Police tape,” Jack said in a small voice, and Mark met where his gaze was.

A single tree had a torn and faded strip of police tape wrapped around the trunk, blowing in the breeze. “From Troye and Tyler,” Mark supplied, hoping to get to the root of the Irishman’s drop in mood.

“You’d think they’d clean it up.”

“Well, they never closed the investigation.”

Jack wrapped his arms around himself, “Alright, I’m gettin’ creeped out now.”

 

 

**Respectful. _I hope they’re at peace now._**

**Ask. _What do you remember?_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who enjoys and supports this, thank you so much! I've had comments saying they were looking for this fic, which I honestly didn't think this fic was worthy of someone seeking it out, but thank you. Thank you to whoever has spread the word, thank you so much to _everyone_! You have no idea how happy this makes me. Honestly, thank you all so much.


	35. Darkness (Respectful)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To whomever wrote the Transcripts page of the Until Dawn Wiki: Bless you. You have made my task _a million_ times better.

“Well,” Mark said, shuffling closer to Jack, “wherever they are, I’m sure they’re happy we’re thinking about them.” He tried to put as much conviction into those words as he could.

Jack tried to smile at Mark’s attempts at putting him at ease. “That’s … a nice way of thinking about it.” But it was easy to see he was still uneasy about everything.

The two continued on their way, mostly uphill. Mark was about to make a half-assed joke about being out of shape (when all that rockclimbing had done just the opposite for him), when a scream tore through the air. It started off sounding female, then morphed into something … almost animal-like in nature. 

“Um … Nope,” Jack said. The two of them had whipped around to face the sound as soon as it started. It died on the wind almost as soon as it started. “Didja hear that?” he asked, worriedly.

“I heard … something,” he replied. He readjusted the light in his hand and kept moving forward. 

“So, we’re just gonna pretend that didn’t happen?” Jack asked. He picked up his pace to match Mark’s slightly accelerated one.

“ _ I _ , my cute green friend, am hopping on the Nope Train to FuckthatVille, with a stop at the cabin. If you want to investigate the possible werewolf mauling, go right ahead.”

“Good point,” was Jack’s reply as they came across a massive downed tree in the path.

“Shit,” Mark cursed. “I don’t think we can get over it. It doesn’t look stable.”

“Plus there’s a lot of brush and shit on the other side,” Jack chimed in. “Not safe.”

The two men turned to the right and went down a smaller side path that went straight into the mountain. A wooden frame was constructed as a doorway. 

“And besides,” Jack commented, turning around and walking backwards, “who doesn’t like takin’ the scenic ro-UTE!”

He shouted as the barrier he leaned against broke against his weight and he fell. Mark’s heart faltered and he rushed forward, shouting Jack’s name as a resounding  _ thud _ was heard. He braced himself on a more secure post and leaned over, seeing Jack stand up quickly, trying to play it off.

“I’m okay! I’m okay! Stuck the landin’!” He held his arms up and turned towards Mark. Mark put a hand on his chest.

“Jesus, man, one heart attack was more than enough for me, thank you!” Mark called down. “You okay?” The drop didn’t look too far. Most of Jack’s pain, if there was any, was probably just from the shock of it.

Jack checked his body and dusted the sleeves of his jacket off. “As far as I can tell, I still have all five o’ my limbs!”

Mark frowned. Two arms, two legs, one —  _ oh _ . Mark started snickering and Jack gave him that smile that illuminates the whole world. Heart rate back to something akin to normal, Mark took stock of the situation. There was an old, rusted mine cart in the direct way of Jack.

“Can you get back up?” Mark asked. Jack looked around. 

“No, there’re no handholds or anything that I can see, which isn’t much.”

 

**Cautious. _Push the cart!_**

**Heroic. _I’ll jump down!_**


	36. Darkness (Heroic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I broke my neck yesterday by readjusting myself while I was laying down on a pillow. It takes skill to fuck up your neck by moving to a different position _on a pillow_. I almost accidentally stuck a fork in an outlet.
> 
> Finals, man. Fucking finals.
> 
> Witness Mark and Jack have a Dork-Off/Dirty-Pun-Off!
> 
> Is Mark near or far sighted?
> 
> 1 QTE used, 4 total.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quote from Vox: "We're 164 days into 2016. We've had 133 mass shootings". THAT'S FUCKING NEARLY ONE A DAY. AMERICA SUCKS, I'M MOVING TO ENGLAND AS SOON AS I CAN, SAYONARA "LAND OF THE FREE".
> 
> Fucking 133 this year. _Nearly 1,000_ since Sandy Hook. I'm sitting here in my room, feeling like I should cry because of how awful humanity is, but not crying because I already knew how terrible we are, and me not being able to cry is making me want to cry even more because I _should_ be crying but I'm so numb to it and the fact that I'm numb to it is making me _want to cry even more but I can't!_ It's a vicious cycle.
> 
> To anyone in Orlando or the Orlando area or who is attending L.A. Pride, please, _please_ be careful. I love you guys to bits and crazies travel in packs. Those two nutjobs might have equally nutjobby friends. Be safe.
> 
> This is a depressing start to a chapter.

“Don’t worry,” Mark said, flexing his arms in a manner that Chris Evans would call “bicep porn”, “I’ll save you!” One more pose and Mark was crouching down, bracing himself on the ground, and pushing off so he was down on Jack’s level. If he had paused in his heoric quest for a moment, he might have noticed the same masked figure at the shack was now less than two feet behind him.

Jack put his hands over his heart. “My hero,” he swooned. “Now help me move this minecart.”

“Pushy,” Mark teased, but braced himself against the cart anyway. Jack got next to him and the two of them pushed the iron structure with either rusted or frozen wheels using all their strength. It slowly gave way and they were able to move it enough to get through to the other side. Jack leaned on the wall and Mark grabbed his sides. “Y’know,” he said, unable to not make a dirty joke, “when I imagined us grunting together tonight, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Jack breathlessly laughed. “Oh, you’re lucky I love you Fischbach.”

Once they had gotten their breath back, they walked forward, Mark lighting up the path in front of them. A rattling noise sounded deep in the mine and a minecart (this one with apparently fully functional wheels) came barreling down the track right towards Mark. Barely keeping his hold on the flashlight, he held out his hands and caught the cart before it could crash into him. It pushed him back a bit, but he eventually stopped it.

“Oh, my god,” Jack exclaimed, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said, breathing heavily. They both looked at the cart. They weren’t standing on a hill and that cart looked just as heavy as the one earlier. How did it start moving?

Mark followed the track backwards. It only went about twenty or so feet before ending with a barrier of wood separating the track from that portion of the mine. He turned around, the noise of the cloth of his clothes rustling louder than the almost imperceptible scuttle of something across the cave ceiling.

He and Jack backtracked and went up a set of stairs built into the dirt of the mine shaft. They almost went left until they saw the much more interesting environment of the right. An altar-like structure was set up with melted candles on (hopefully) empty oil drums, feathers and dream catchers hanging from chains and rafters, and an animal skull pinned up to a haphazardly thrown up wooden wall. Mark stopped at one of the oil drums while Jack continued to explore. There was a cigar butt resting near the candles. “Huh,” he remarked, picking it up and examining the burnt end. The acrid smell wafted up to him almost instantly. “It’s fresh,” he said, looking over at Jack.

“Weird place to hang out and smoke cigars,” Jack commented, nudging one of the hanging dreamcatchers so it spun on the leather cord it was attached to. His gaze landed on the wall, next to the skull. “Check this out.”

Mark moved closer and looked at a symbol painted on the wall in what Mark hoped was red paint and/or ketchup. A crudely drawn symbol that looked like a mockery of the skull it was next to almost seemed cartoonish in the otherwise threatening atmosphere.

“This place has got to be historical,” Mark said, ignoring Jack’s remarks about his use of the word ‘historical’. “Probably Native American, right?”

“You’re askin’ the Irishman to determine if something is Native American?” he asked.

Mark looked at him. “The excessive sass is not necessary, thank you very much,  _ Sean _ .”

Jack responded by giving him that smile that, if used correctly in the wrong hands (which Jack’s definitely were), could be a lethal weapon of mass destruction. Mark chuckled and rolled his eyes, moving away from the shrine and further into the mine. The two of them hadn’t taken more than ten steps before one of the rafters collapsed in front of them. The two men jumped backwards, shrieking.

“I don’t think this place is exactly up to code,” Mark observed after making sure Jack was okay.

“Yeah,” the younger man agreed, “let’s get out of here.”

Being extra cautious of where and how they stepped, they continued on. Mark pulled off to the side to examine a piece of paper on a table. It was a map of the mine system they were currently in. Now, Mark wasn’t an expert in mine map reading, but he’s fairly certain that when there are six large areas shaded in red and marked DANGER, there shouldn’t be anyone in that mine.

“Well this place seems fun,” he said looking at the various words like  _ Rockfall Danger _ and  _ Flood Risk _ . He and Jack moved forward with more haste, wary of every support with rust on it.

“Finally!” Jack said as he caught a glimpse of moonlight. They jogged a bit just to get out of the mine shaft faster. Neither of them were claustrophobic, but they could both breathe easier now that they were out in the open again. And, as luck would have it, they weren’t far from the path to the cabin. They climbed more stairs (someone put in a damn escalator, would ya?) and went through a winding path. Mark could see a flickering light on a different peak far in the distance.

“So, just to be clear,” Jack said, “when you say ‘cabin’, d’you mean cabin like what I grew up in, cabin like the lodge, or cabin like Abe Lincoln?”

Too easy. “Wait till you see the Lincoln Bedroom,” Mark said, dropping his voice low. Jack’s cheeks burned and he laughed.

“You gonna go presidential on me?” he shot back adding a little ‘ho-ho!’ at his pun. Mark grinned. He could do better.

“Wanna take a ride on Air Force One?” he suggested. Jack turned to him. 

“If you ever call your dick that again, the answer is ‘no for eternity’.” he threatened, a grin trying to break out.

“Oh that’s cold,” Mark said as they reached an observation point.

Jack ran ahead to the mounted telescope, as excited as if it were Christmas day all over again.

“This place is fookin’ beautiful man! And I think I can see the cabi-” he stopped short and stepped back from the telescope. Mark’s “Protect the Jackaboy” instincts went into overdrive. 

“What, what’s wrong?” Mark asked. Jack peered into the telescope again and stepped away fully.

“I just saw someone at the cabin,” he said. Mark moved forward and took off his glasses to look through the magnification device. He didn’t see anythin-

He stepped back as something passed in front of the scope. It might have just been a leaf or something stupid like that, but with a powerful magnification on it, he could have sworn it was a zombie face. He leaned back in and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Convinced that he and Jack were just too on edge, he shook it off.

“Been sampling the ol’ eggnog, babe?” he joked. “It’s just us up here,” he reassured Jack.

“Yeah,” Jack muttered, rubbing his arms. Mark kissed his forehead and smiled at him. Jack smiled back, seeming a bit more at ease and Mark turned around to examine a large sign behind him. It highlighted all the animals they should watch out for up in the mountain, specifically wolves, grizzly bears, and caribou. Caribou are dangerous?

“Hey Jack,” Mark said, a smile twitching at his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go hug a bear!”

“ _ What?! _ ” Jack said in a manner much like Stewie Griffin. “Are ye  _ nuts _ ? There were bears in the woods near the cabin — those things are dangerous and they’re  _ assholes _ .  _ Hell  _ no we’re not huggin’ a damn bear.” He shook his head. “Now who’s been samplin’ the eggnog,” he muttered.

“I know that!” Mark defended, “I was making a joke.”

“Good.”

“... But that’d be a cool selfie.”

“ _ Mark _ .”

“Okay, okay!” he threw his hands up in defeat and opened a gate for Jack, gesturing him through. He let the gate close behind him, the latch falling into place.

They were finally going down hill and passed the fence that separated the path from nature, Mark could make out one of the oh-so-dangerous caribou just before a stark white bird shot out from the underbrush with an ungodly shriek to rival Mark’s own. He flailed his arms and fell backwards a couple steps. Jack was laughing.

“You okay bird-brain?” he asked.

 

**Annoyed.** **_Rats with wings._ **

**Witty.** **_I was just … flirting._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, hopefully I can get up by Wednesday of next week, then I'm gonna shoot for the week after but I'll have an announcement next chapter, so stay tuned.


	37. Darkness (Witty)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finals tomorrow and this is what I'm doing.

**** “Yeah, fine, I was just, you know, … answering its mating call.” He dusted himself off and tried to regain some of his dubious dignity.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re  _ that _ easy?”

“I think you mean I’m that  _ irresistible _ . It was coming on to me!” he defended. Jack just shook his head and chuckled. Mark hurried along after him. They crossed a fast moving river with a half-finished bridge. This whole mountain seemed to be in a state of disarray since last year. They came to another stop in the path, this one  _ without _ a convenient path through the mountain for them to go through. “Real nice of Connor to clear the path for us,” Mark remarked drily at the sight of the large downed tree.

“Yeah, let’s just have Connor Hulk out and move this  _ mammoth _ of a tree, so we can fuck and leave everyone else in peace.” Jack said. He set his arms akimbo and observed the tree. “Okay, this doesn’t look as bad as the one before. In fact,” Jack jogged up a pile of snow and braced his hands on the log, pushing himself up. He stood on the log and held out his arms. 

Mark clapped. “Faith Connors has nothing on you, babe.” Jack bowed and Mark laughed.

“Hey, Mark, ya got somethin’ on your face,” Jack said. Mark reached up to check just as a snowball flew threw the air and smacked him in the cheek. Jack pointed and laughed while Mark wiped the snow off.

“Okay, okay,” he said calmly, and turned around, gathering snow into a snowball. “If that’s how it’s gonna  _ be _ —” he whipped around and held his arm, poised to chuck the snowball for all it’s worth, when he realized the happy Irishman was nowhere to be seen. “Jack?” he called out.

His response was a heartstopping scream.

"Jack!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully there'll be another chapter by the end of this week, then one next week.


	38. Darkness (Felix)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tfw there might be something medically wrong with you but you're too afraid to google it because webmd will tell you you're dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found possibly the smartest Easter Egg in Until Dawn. 
> 
> So, I was shelving books at my town library and I see the word Wendigo. Upon further inspection, it's the title of a book, _The Curse of the Wendigo_. Upon even _further_ inspection, it's the second book in a series, so I have to read the first one first, _The Monstumologist_. Great book. The gore is _very_ descriptive, the language is old, like 1880's, but the story is _phenomenal_. So I checked out the second book PURELY FOR RESEARCH (I say as I shove ten unread books under my bed so I can read this one). And one of the passages began with a quote from someone named Algernon Blackwood.
> 
> Hm. Blackwood. Where have I heard that name before? _"... annual Blackwood getaway!"_ Oh, that's the name of the _woods they're in_. Oh, well, it could be a coincidence, further research is needed ... Oh wait. _"... Algernon Blackwood is known for such works as "The Wendigo" ..."_ FUCKING BOOM.
> 
> (Yes I realize this information is on the wiki, shut up, let me feel smart before my brain melts over the summer *Sherlock theme song starts playing*)

As Felix reached for the knobs for the shower, he was struck with an odd thought that this shower would be much more complicated than it had to be. Before he could dwell on it, however, Connor called for him.

“What?!” He yelled back, leaning toward the door.

“You wanna help me get the fire going?”

“Uh, well, I’m about to get in the shower. I mean, if you  _ want _ me to come down like I am …,” he trailed off with a suggestive tone, despite him still being fully clothed.

“No thanks!” was Connor’s swift reply and Felix laughed. He twisted the hot water knob and stuck his hand under the spray. He sighed when the water remained not even lukewarm. He shut the water off and wiped his hand on his pants.

“Wow,” he said. “No chocolate on the pillow, no complementary porn, and now no hot water? What kind of fancy lodge is this?”

He stepped out of the bathroom and stopped as he heard was sounded like a faint woman’s scream. He whipped around and looked around him, but saw nothing.

“Okay, moving on,” he muttered. He went over to the stairs, but paused and looked at the door near the bathroom, slightly ajar. He redirected himself and went into the room that Tyler had stayed in last year. He and Troye and Connor had gone up there a few days before everyone else, so it looked more lived in than it usually would. Added to the fact that it hadn’t been touched in a year and it looked like Tyler was here yesterday, not months ago.

On a desk near the door was a business card for a tattoo artist, Ingrid Nilsen, and on the back was a rough pen sketch of the owl tattoo Tyler got. This must have been from a couple years ago. It had a date and time on it, probably when he was getting it done. Felix put it down and moved further into the room.

There was a bulletin board on the wall with a lot of papers and pictures. There were some printouts from the last VidCon he attended and underneath one was a picture of him. He dropped it and hurried away — he shouldn’t be seeing that.

On one of the nightstands on the side of the bed, Felix saw a postcard. It was an invitation to a Halloween party, citing fancy dress as obligatory. Now, was that fancy like dresses and ties? Because costumes would be a better choice for a Halloween party. On the back was a picture. It was landscape photo of a farm. Tall grass, or maybe corn, covered most of the picture. The sky was blue with a fair amount of clouds. There was a scarecrow standing as the focal point of the picture. It had a stitched grin, a single white eye, and a hook serving as its only hand. In the background, a red barn stood. If he looked closely, he could see two dots parallel each other in the bottom left hand corner, nearly hidden in the shadow of the corn. He set it down and left the room.

“Come on,” he heard Connor mutter as he (properly now) made his way downstairs. 

“How long do you think it’ll take him?” Phil asked presumably Dan.

“It’s probably gonna be blankets and layers for all.” Dan answered.

Felix reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Dan and Phil watching Connor crouch by the fireplace and fiddle with something. Chris and PJ were absent.

“Okay, you know what, little peanut gallery over there?” Connor said, looking up at the two taller men, “I have an idea, rather than you two standing here and judging my fire building skills.”

“What?” Dan asked.

“I’m pretty sure that somewhere in this mess of a place, we have a spirit board.”

“Nope. Nope nope nopity nope nope.” Dan said firmly, stepping back and waving his arms. “There has never been a moment in human history in which a spirit board led to happy fun evening full of laughter and rainbows. Never happened. Lit’rally,  _ the exact opposite happens. _ There’s a whole  _ flippin’ _ movie dedicated to how bad of an idea that is. Hell. No.”

“Aw, come on, Dan,” Connor prodded, standing up. “Those things don’t do anything! We used to do it all the time. Me and …” He trailed off and got that look in his eyes.

“We’ll get it,” Phil said with Dan shooting him a look that said  _ What have I told you about signing me up for this shit?! _ “It’ll be fun!”

“Hey, Connor,” Felix interrupted. “No hot water’s kind of a problem, dontcha think? And where did PJ and Chris go?”

“PJ left one of his bags down at the station, so they’re getting that —”

“Because splitting up is a  _ great idea _ .”

“— And all I gotta do is fire up the boiler, easy.” Connor finished. He turned to Dan and Phil. “You guys go hunt down the spirit board.”

Dan sighed and rubbed his glabella. “Sure, fine, why not. But when a demon murders us and our lives become a subpar movie, I get to say ‘I told you so’.” he trudged away and Phil followed with a spring in his step.

Connor turned back to Felix. “You wanna help me get the water going?”

He shrugged and the two of them headed down to the basement. On the floor below, Connor reached into the drawer of a small bureau and pulled out a yellow torch. “Notice how I gave Dan and Phil a mission together? My main goal for this weekend is to make about five million fangirls pass out from joy.”

 

**Mocking. _Phil needs to go for it!_**

**Flattering. _YouTube power couple._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Splitting up is the main cause of death in horror movies. Well, that and "unprotected sexicles" (Markiplier 2015).
> 
> Also, one of the ads that came up as I was listening to music and writing this was for Ouija 2. Ironic.


	39. Darkness (Flattering)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read the beginning or end note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, first of all, I want you all to know I love you guys. This story is phenomenally more successful than I ever anticipated. Over 9,000 hits, 110 subscriptions, 580 kudos, and 80 bookmarks, _AND_ someone who actually actively searched for this!!!! This is so amazing for an idea I wasn't even sure would ever get any support. Thank you to each and every one of you for all your kind and constructive comments! From the bottom of my heart, really, thank you all.
> 
> Second, that being said, here comes the bad news. I am going to be out of the state for the entire month of July. For three weeks, I'm going to Girl Scout Camp, which I'm excited for because this year I'm going to be a CIT! I know, who's allowing me to be in charge of small children? I can't get through a fucking sentence without swearing. I'm worse than Jack in that regard. Also, I got to pick my camp name (at GS camp the counselors use made up names like Pinkie-Pie or Fluke (both real counselors at the camp I go to (actually Fluke is the director))): I am The Doctor (doooWEEEEEoooooooooo WEEEEEEeeeoooooOOOOOO). This camp has electricity solely for lights and no electronics are allowed. Aka, no laptop. No laptop, no updates. After that, for the last week of July, I will be down at the Cape with my friend where I WILL have access to a laptop, but I want to spend as much time with her/at the beach as I can. 
> 
> I feel terrible about leaving this for a month, but there's not a way around it. I'm sorry :(
> 
> But! As soon as I get back, I will continue! Depending on how busy I will be with packing, I MIGHT (keyword: MIGHT) get another chapter out this week, but I have my brother's graduation party on Saturday, I'm leaving Sunday, and I have an allergy shot Thursday, _and_ my step dad is probably going to have me work sometime in between. Ugh.
> 
> **TL;DR** \- I love you guys, thank you all so much for reading, but there will be no updates after this week for a month. I'm really sorry you guys :((
> 
> Posting this again at the bottom for those who didn't see it here.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter! I try to explain away the inexplicable lack of use of lights in the lodge. I take a lot of points from CinameSins' partial playthrough, GCN's two videos, and Dartigan's video and use that as my "Needs to be Fixed" list.

“YouTube power couple, definitely,” Felix agreed. “One of them needs to get their skinny-jeaned asses in gear.”

A slow smile spread over Connor’s countenance. The mirth across his lips didn’t quite translate to his eyes. “Exactly. It’s like, they need some sort of traumatic event to send them into each other’s arms. I mean, at this rate they’ll be cliche old British guys, eating crumpets with their dentures and watching season thirty of Doctor Who before either of them makes a move.”

Felix chose to focus on the not eerie part of that and smile at the thought of old Dan and Phil watching anime in an old person’s home. Connor led him over to the basement door, flashlight pointed forward.

“Hey, why are there no lights?” Felix asked, closing the door behind him.

“The power for the lodge itself gets routed through the town. Because we don’t come up here often, we have to call ahead for when we want the power on. There was a mix up in communication, so we’re not gonna have power ‘till early tomorrow. Everything else runs on generators.” Connor explained, carefully navigating around the boxes and clutter in the basement.

“You know, Felix,” Connor said, pausing and turning around. “It really means a lot that everybody came back up here this year. And you, of course.”

 

**Uneasy. _It’s weird to be back._**

**Reassuring. _We’re here for you._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, first of all, I want you all to know I love you guys. This story is phenomenally more successful than I ever anticipated. Over 9,000 hits, 110 subscriptions, 580 kudos, and 80 bookmarks, _AND_ someone who actually actively searched for this!!!! This is so amazing for an idea I wasn't even sure would ever get any support. Thank you to each and every one of you for all your kind and constructive comments! From the bottom of my heart, really, thank you all.
> 
> Second, that being said, here comes the bad news. I am going to be out of the state for the entire month of July. For three weeks, I'm going to Girl Scout Camp, which I'm excited for because this year I'm going to be a CIT! I know, who's allowing me to be in charge of small children? I can't get through a fucking sentence without swearing. I'm worse than Jack in that regard. Also, I got to pick my camp name (at GS camp the counselors use made up names like Pinkie-Pie or Fluke (both real counselors at the camp I go to (actually Fluke is the director))): I am The Doctor (doooWEEEEEoooooooooo WEEEEEEeeeoooooOOOOOO). This camp has electricity solely for lights and no electronics are allowed. Aka, no laptop. No laptop, no updates. After that, for the last week of July, I will be down at the Cape with my friend where I WILL have access to a laptop, but I want to spend as much time with her/at the beach as I can. 
> 
> I feel terrible about leaving this for a month, but there's not a way around it. I'm sorry :(
> 
> But! As soon as I get back, I will continue! Depending on how busy I will be with packing, I MIGHT (keyword: MIGHT) get another chapter out this week, but I have my brother's graduation party on Saturday, I'm leaving Sunday, and I have an allergy shot Thursday, _and_ my step dad is probably going to have me work sometime in between. Ugh.
> 
> **TL;DR** \- I love you guys, thank you all so much for reading, but there will be no updates after this week for a month. I'm really sorry you guys :((


	40. Darkness (Reassuring)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T-Minus 12 days until my birthday! And it is NOT soon enough, I'm tired of being 15 while everyone else is 16. ~~Of course then I'll be 16 while everyone else is 17, but that's a problem for later~~.

Felix put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you. Whatever you need. We’re all gonna get through this together.”

Connor gave him a tight grin and nodded. “I want us to have a good time, you know?” Felix nodded back, and they went further into the basement.

“Watch your step,” Connor warned. The walls were now white washed cinderblock. Any of the posh interior of the lodge was left at the doorway, now it was just cold stone and metal pipes. And a lot of stairs.

“I think I can handle a couple stairs.” Felix said, stomping down after Connor.

Connor went to a tall, black metal cabinet and pulled open the doors. “Sorry to drag you down to the bowels.”

“Just get me into a shower with hot water, and consider yourself forgiven.” Felix said, crossing his arms.

“I just didn’t want you down here by yourself, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Felix grinned, knowing he meant that  _ he _ didn’t want to be down here alone. “It’s pretty creepy down here. Like this could be the setting of a zombie game, or ghost game, or something.”

Connor crossed over to a small, metal box on the wall behind Felix and started messing around in there. “Ghost game, is that the technical term?” he teased.

Felix shook his head and went over to the first cabinet. He peeked in and saw a small, wooden crate with a baseball bat sticking out of it. He picked it up and looked at it.

 

**Serious.** **_Is it yours?_ **

**Humorous.** **_Baseball in the snow?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back earlier than expected, woo hoo! 
> 
> So, I decided to skip the beach with my friend. The three weeks of camp didn't really work out the way I wanted it to. The first two weeks were great, and I got to work with kids and I made some good friends. But the beginning of the third week was when things weren't great.
> 
> Before anyone freaks out, I am fine. I had a bad night where I was just really down on myself and crying for a while. I'm fine. It was a combination of homesickness, girl shit, and a really, _really_ long day.
> 
> I'm telling you guys this because I just wanted to say thank you. I had a feeling I was gonna start crying again, so I remembered some of the comments that you guys have posted, and I got through the day with a smile on my face. So thank you all so much. It helped so much just to hear people who have no obligation to be nice to me decide to say something positive instead of tearing me down. Mark, Jack, everybody mentioned in this fic would be proud of all of you.


	41. Darkness (Humorous)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this from my phone, hopefully this works.
> 
> Also the Until Dawn Wiki counts the button thing as a QTE, so I will too.
> 
> 1 DME used, 2 total.  
> 2 QTE's used, 6 total.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY!!!!! On the 8th I will be 16 and hopefully get my learner's permit (bs friggin can't get a permit until you're 16 and license at 16 and a half fucking bs)

Felix swung the bat slowly in front of him. “How d’you play baseball in the snow?” he asked Connor, a small smile growing on his face.

Connor looked over and took the bat, examining it. “No, we’d like, come up here in the summer sometimes, my family and me. One time, I …” he trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. “I invited Tyler up here, Troye was in Australia and couldn’t come up.” He stared at a spot near Felix’s left leg for a moment before snapping out of it and rubbing his face. “Anyway, let’s get some hot water in this place, right?” He smiled and placed the bat in a wooden box near the panel. He went back to the cabinet and passed Felix the flashlight. “Can you hold this?”

Felix brought the flashlight up, but just as he did, something sounded like it fell further back in the basement. He swung around, bringing the light with him and looked in the direction of the noise. “What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” Connor replied. “Can you just hold it so I can see what I’m doing?” Felix cast one more glance behind him then turned to keep the light on the machinery. Connor fiddled with something that Felix couldn’t make heads or tails of and stepped back. “Okay, now we have to increase the water pressure before we get the boiler fired up.”

“How do you know how to do this stuff?” Felix asked as he moved in front of the box like Connor directed him to.

“My dad showed me. He wanted to make sure I knew how to take care of this place before he let me have free reign of it.”

Felix nodded and looked at the box in front of him. He twisted the knob to the ON position and watched a dial climb higher until it stopped moving at the apex of its arc. He pressed a button as a light turned on underneath it. The water and machines made a noise and Connor stepped back, grinning. “Alright! We got it!” He looked at Felix almost sheepishly. “Brofist?” he offered. Felix laughed and bumped his fist against Connor’s.

Connor locked the cabinet and Felix turned around as something sounded behind him. A metallic groan, maybe?

“Okay, you  _ had _ to have heard that,” he said to Connor.

“Could be a lot of things,” he replied. He danced his fingers on the back of Felix’s neck, “A lot of things with holes in their skin,” he said, creepily.

Felix swatted his hand away. “Shut the fuck up, man.”

“Aw, come on, no need to get … Frant-ic.” He started laughing at his own joke.

Felix rolled his eyes, “Shut up, dick,” he muttered half-heartedly.

Connor looked at him, mirth still glittering in his eyes along with something just a bit unsettling. “You were really freaked out,” he observed.

 

**Protest.** **_I wasn't scared._ **

**Accuse.** **_You were freaked out, too!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if Connor seems kind of OOC, but he's (obviously) the equivalent of Josh here and if you watch the Game Theory on Josh, you will understand why he's like that.
> 
> Also, I'm with Pewds on the tripophobia thing. Those pictures make my skin crawl *shudder*.


	42. Darkness (Accuse)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to go to the dentist today :(  
> I had to get a couple cavities filled, a couple couldn't be filled because I physically cannot handle needles of any kind. Even when they use the numbing gel which DOESN'T FUCKING WORK. Also, whoever came up with the idea that needles "feel like a pinch" you are a fucking liar and have obviously never been pinched before. They are almost exact opposite sensations. It's called a shot because it FUCKING FEELS LIKE YOU'VE BEEN SHOT.
> 
> My mouth still doesn't feel right. :(((((((

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucked up. UGGGGGHH *assorted dying noises* The choice for the last chapter should have been Protest or Prank. But, as I said, I was posting it from my phone. I was also finishing writing this on my phone. Videos take up more data and I was already at 90% at that point, so I just read the wiki. The wiki on my laptop shows the main choice, the second choice branched from that, etc. Each choice and sub choice is indented the further into that path you get. It's not like that on my phone. In a bumpy car with a waning battery, it looked like the choice was Protest or Accuse.
> 
> Granted, of all mistakes like this that I could have made, this is the most minor. I just want to own up to it. But still, *more assorted dying noises*

“You were scared, too, asshole,” Felix said, thoroughly butthurt. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“Yeah, but not as much as you,” Connor admitted. “Besides, I’m down here all the time. Anything here is more afraid of me than I am of it. Can’t really say the same about you.”

_Fine, if Connor doesn’t want to be treated like glass, then he won’t be._ Felix decided.

 

**Protest.** **_I totally wasn’t scared!_ **

**Prank.** **_Something behind you ..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE BIRTHDAY WISHES!!! I did have a great sweet 16, my actual birth _day_ was pretty chill, I got my LEARNER'S PERMIT and spent the end of the day with my best friend watching youtube videos and hiding from my family. I got $55 in B &N gift cards and 2 subscriptions to BooklyBox (*evil laughter* when your parents are divorced and after many years you have learned how to use it to your advantage), and the Nerdy Nummies cookbook! Sidenote: how freakin' adorable is Rosanna Pansino?! Every time she talks, a kitten gets butterfly wings, rainbow fur, and a unicorn horn.
> 
> HEY GUESS WHAT. I have a Tumblr. I don't post a lot, mostly just liking and reblogging ~~and creeping~~ BUT if you guys want to ask me stuff, or talk, or anything else that Tumblr is good for, [here is the link](http://olivia-ivy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Now, LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN!


	43. Darkness (Prank)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made lemon sugar cookies, anyone want one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Storytime!
> 
> So I went to a little party last night with some friends at school. It was just us hanging out at one of their houses, we had a little fire, made smores, mostly just talked and told jokes and stuff. Then these three people show up, 2 from our class 1 not, and as soon as they showed up, the night went to shit. The first conversation they started was about some senior girl who they all were trash talking and just generally starting shit.
> 
> So, I texted my mom and had her come to pick me up and when she came I just left the room - no one said anything - grabbed my bag, said bye and thanks to the girl's mom whose house it was - I am overly polite with adults - and left the house. I got home and texted one of them and said 'sorry I forgot to tell you guys I was leaving'. I didn't forget.
> 
> Moral of this story, for any socially awkward kiddies reading this, yes, you CAN just leave. Even if you have to make up an excuse, if something happens and you are no longer comfortable with where you are or what you're a part of, you can just leave. It's ten billion times easier than you think, I promise.

Felix looked at a spot over Connor’s shoulder. Remembering the trauma that Youtube Red put him through, he schooled his features into something he hoped resembled fear. “Oh, my god, dude. Don’t move.”

“What?” Connor asked.

“There’s something behind you.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, sure.”

 

**Gloat.** **_Gotcha!_ **

**Insist.** **_No … seriously …_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question for you guys, but FEEL FREE NOT TO ANSWER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO. 
> 
> As I'm sure you guys remember from my thrilling dentistry exploits of last chapter, I can't deal with needles. It was so bad that they couldn't do what they need to do and I have to go back next week. In preparation for this, my dentist prescribed me a medicine called Ativan, just for the procedure.
> 
> I'm kind of iffy on pills/medicines. I know they help people and I'm not _anti_ -medicine. I just don't usually have the greatest experience with them. Over the counter pain meds like Advil or Tylenol don't work for me [which is a fact I hate once a month X( ], there has not been one allergy pill that works for more than one season (hence the allergy shots). 
> 
> My question THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ANSWER IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH DISCLOSING THIS INFORMATION. OR YOU CAN MESSAGE ME ON [TUMBLR](http://olivia-ivy.tumblr.com/), AGAIN, WHATEVER YOU'RE MOST COMFORTABLE WITH. Have any of you taken Ativan or a different brand of Lorazepam, and if you have, did it work? If you haven't, has anyone you know taken it and did it work for them or did they have bad side effects or anything?
> 
> I honestly don't know, I just trust you guys more than Google.


	44. Darkness (Insist)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten just a LITTLE BIT hooked on Danganronpa. *Merch spills out of an overflowing closet* Just a little bit (^^)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Add Ativan to the list of medications that do jack diddly fucking squat for me. If it works for you, great, and don't not take it from what I'm saying here. It depends on the person and I guess I'm just naturally pill-resistant or something. Dr. House, what say you?
> 
> ...
> 
> Oh yeah, you're on a motorcycle trip with Wilson or something, never mind.

“Connor,” Felix said, taking half a step back for good measure. “I’m serious. There’s something back there.”

Connor glanced behind himself and Felix grabbed him and yelled. Connor jumped and Felix laughed. “Get rekt, son,” he said in an over exaggerated voice. Connor chuckled and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The weekend is only beginning, I will get you back. Just wait,” he replied.

Felix was about to shoot back a challenge, but another noise from deep in the basement interrupted him. “Okay, you hear that, too, right?”

Connor stared at where the sound seemed to be emanating from and took a step forward. 

“Connor?” Felix asked.

“What?” he said, if only to acknowledge that he heard Felix.

“There’s, like, a pattern, or a rhythm to it,” the Swede observed.

“I’ve … never heard anything like that down here before,” Connor admitted.

 

**Concerned.** **_We should check it out._ **

**Heroic.** **_I’ll check it out._ **


	45. Darkness (Heroic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MY SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW HELP ME I DON'T WANT TO GO.
> 
> 1 QTE used, 7 total.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So part of my summer reading project is an at least 8-minute presentation on the topic. I CAN'T TALK ABOUT ANYTHING FOR 8 MINUTES UNLESS IT'S A THEORY OR A STORY IDEA I HAVE. Think I'm lying, time yourself. Start talking, nothing else just talking, or thinking about one subject for 8 minutes, just one subject, don't do or think about anything else. It's like [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UygoPVr7Aok) says, you don't really know how long a segment of time is until you're facing it straight on.

Felix took a step forward. “I’m gonna go check it out,” he declared.

“What, why?” Connor asked.

He tightened his grip on the flashlight and shot a quick grin at the American. “If it’s a serial killer, how cool would it be if I got a picture with him for Marzia?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Connor said. His gaze kept shifting from Felix to the area behind him.

“You can guard the boiler while I go make sure, then,” Felix said. He mentally applauded himself on how brave he was acting, despite every instinct he had yelling at him to turn the fuck around and run the fuck away. He walked down the hallway area, trying to calm himself down, when someone shot out from around the corner, someone tall in a brown robe-thing and a hockey mask.

Felix screamed and began cursing in Swedish, turning around and running as fast as he physically could. He could hear the person with the hockey mask following him. He shouted something that could be loosely translated to “Fucking run, bitch!” at Connor. Despite Connor not being fluent in Panicked Swedish, he got the idea and ran ahead of Felix. 

Felix knocked down a wooden palette behind him and heard the masked man stumble. He and Connor bounded up the stairs and Felix grabbed the handle, banging his shoulder against the door. Connor looked behind them as the steps of the masked man drew nearer.

“Why the fuck are these doors locked?!” Felix shouted as the thick wood refused to give way.

“T-To keep out strangers,” Connor said. Felix put his back to the door and they both faced the man, tensing at the approaching threat.

The man stopped in front of them and held out his arms. In the split second between that and the man’s next action, Felix went through every horror game he could remember and tried to think of the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. He really wasn’t expecting the man to say, in a British accent no less, “Boo!”

He and Connor froze for a second, looking at each other then back at the … threat?

The man snickered and flipped his hood off, shedding the mask as well.

“Phil?!” Felix yelled. “What the actual fuck man!”

“Nice,” Connor said. He extended his hand to high five the taller man, who was grinning and laughing at their reactions.

“Thanks,” Phil said, all too proud of himself. “But I have to ask,” he picked at the sleeve of the garment he was wearing. “Why do you have a monk costume down here?”

Connor shrugged. “I have no clue. At some point over the years, this place became a storage center for us.”

“Hold on a fuckin’ minute!” Felix shouted. Now that the shock was wearing off, he was much more annoyed than terrified. He turned on his heel to face Connor. “Were you in on this?”

Connor held up his hands innocently. “I  _ wish _ I was in on it. I’m saving my tricks for later,” he winked at the Swede.

Felix rolled his eyes and pushed past the two, his pride still smarting.

The three arrived at the living room with Felix having gotten over most of the embarrassment and Phil still in his monk costume. “I will admit that it was  _ a little _ funny -”

“Hah!” Phil cried out triumphantly.

“Funny that you thought I’d actually fall for that!” he finished, throwing in a “damn, son!” for good measure. Connor just watched the exchange, mirth in his murky eyes.

Dan was waiting for them in the living room when they arrived. He took one look at Phil and lost it, just a little. He waved his arms around and made his voice reach a pitch that had Felix wincing, just a bit.

“I leave you alone for  _ five bloody minutes _ and you come back like … like …” he aggressively gestured to all of Phil, who, by the way, was proudly standing with his arms outstretched. Dan gave up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t want to know. Did you at least find the spirit board?”

“Didn’t you go with him?” Connor asked, no doubt dismayed at all his hard work going down the drain.

“I was going to, but then I thought it over some more and decided I’d rather live,” Dan replied, pointedly ignoring Phil, even as the older man took out a thin wooden board and planchette from within his robe.

“Alright,” Connor said, rubbing his hands. “You guys ready?”

“Hell no,” Felix said. “I’m getting my stanky ass into a shower right now. Y’all should be thanking me.” He began climbing the stairs and turned to face the group. “And watch out for these two,” he jokingly warned Dan, “they’re schemers.”

The last thing Felix heard before he was out of earshot was Dan’s exasperated cry of “Phil, get out of that thing, it’s disgusti-  _ DON’T YOU DARE HUG ME, PHIL LESTER, I SWEAR TO- _ ” He laughed and closed the bathroom door. “Oh yeah,” he muttered to himself, pulling up a playlist on his phone, “They’re gonna get together before the end of the night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking up Swedish swears and I realized something. For as much as I hate this country, if there's one thing I like about America, it's our swears. Straight to the point: fuck, shit, cock, ass. Because they're so simple, you can rearrange them in any way and get as creative as you like with it. Also, our swears are _distinctly_ swears. Fuck means fuck, shit means shit.
> 
> Why am I saying this? Because according to [this website](http://hejsweden.com/en/swedish-swear-words/), somehow the Swedish word for seventeen, " _sjutton_ ", is a swear word. And if you take the Swedish word for shit, " _skit_ " and combine it with the Swedish word for pretty, " _snygg_ ", you get an entirely new word that is a positive adjective. _"Dessa blommor är skitsnygg!"_ "These flowers are shit pretty!"
> 
> You okay Sweden?
> 
> Also, just saying, I'm probably not going to do the DLC. I didn't know about it until I saw it on GCN's video, it doesn't add much to the mystery or story, just character development for Emily and Matt, but I don't think it's needed here. If you guys really want it, I'll write it no problem, but if you don't think it's necessary, that's fine too, just let me know.


	46. The Analyst (3.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was dancing to "Bittersweet" by P!ATD and I'm 50% sure one of my shop teachers passed by my house as I was rocking out.
> 
> If she asks me about it, I'm gonna say it was my twin sister (who doesn't exist but shhhhh, she doesn't need to know that)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I survived my oral report! Thank you all for the tips/good luck wishes, it definitely helped calm me down. The whole thing helped break the ice in my English class where everyone knew each other from the honors class _last_ year (I was in the level just below honors and honors is the highest level of classes in my school), and I just generally feel better about the school year :) thanks everyone!

You can’t even get a full grasp on where you are before you are hit with a strong wave of unease. 

You jerk your head to the side, your breath misting in the air. If Dr. Patrick’s office was uninviting the last time you were here, then it’s downright freaky now. The curtains are torn, the window that the doctor is simply standing at like nothing is wrong is now covered haphazardly in boards. There are spots on the wall where some form of decay, be it water damage, or mold, or anything of the sort has begun to take place. There are rusty chains and large metal hooks dangling from the ceiling, like the ones that hold whole bovine carcasses in slaughterhouses. 

Dr. Patrick saunters over to his chair, completely unperturbed by the tarantula in a jar resting inches from where he pulls the cord on his desk lamp. Your eyes are drawn to a hypodermic needle with a clear substance in it as it glints in the new light. 

“I would like to understand your feelings towards people who fear failure and worry about what others think of them,” Dr. Patrick said, skipping any semblance of formality. He leaned closer and you leaned back. “Do you share this fear?”

 

**Yes, I do.**

**No, I don’t.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to see our friendly neighborhood Dr. MatPat! Once again, if you vote yes or no but you're not comfortable saying _why_ yes or no, that's perfectly fine.


	47. The Analyst (3.2)

You do share that fear. Your whole life has just been one expectation after another after another. It crushed you inside for the longest time. You nod to indicate that yes, you do share that fear.

Dr. Patrick brings up one corner of his mouth and breathes out in short huffs. You assume that’s his impersonation of human laughter. He leans back. With what you’ve seen of him so far, the look in his eyes seems to be the happiest you’ve ever seen, as if what you said was so side-splittingly hilarious to him that he almost had a genuine emotion. “Is that so?” he asks. “Because that’s not reflected in the way you’re playing your game, now is it?”  He looks down at his notes and his expression drops in a quarter of a second. You’re paying this guy to say that there’s something wrong with you, but he seems more bipolar than a freaking magnet.

He stands up from his desk and walks to the back wall, still glued to the file in his hands. He’s not even there for a full moment before he walks quickly back over to you, getting right in your face, bracing his weight on his palms pressed flat on the desk. You don’t react — you’re used to it by now.

“And now,” he says after examining your reaction, “let’s investigate your feelings toward other people in greater depth. What you value. What you respect in yourself and others.” He pushes himself harshly back into his seat. “Which would you say is more important in a person, loyalty or honesty?”

 

**I value loyalty.**

**I value honesty.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STORY TIME  
> I'm a junior in the Culinary shop at school and this is the first week that I'm working with freshmen. We're serving the teachers, and everything's going good, the soup today was cream of tomato. One of the freshmen says to a teacher, "Hey, Mr. F, you want a side salad or clam chowder?" We finish serving the teacher and I look at the kid and say "You know that's not clam chowder, right?" He's just like "Wha-?"
> 
> For those of you who have never seen clam chowder (the soup we didn't have), it's yellowish white, smells like seafood, and has bits of potato and CLAMS in it. Cream of tomato (the soup we DID have) is orange-ish, brownish red, smells like TOMATOES, and has TOMATOES in it.
> 
> How in the fuck do you mix those two things up? It's as if he picked up a knife and tried to eat soup with it! Jfc, it's literally the first day of working with freshmen. Then in 2 weeks I get a new batch and need to teach them shit like that ALL OVER AGAIN.
> 
> I don't think I'm gonna survive.


	48. The Analyst (3.3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've already started looking at colleges, in the simplest sense. Any tips I should know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone see the newest P!ATD music video? I follow them on Instagram and they posted the picture of the Illuminati thing and the only thing I could think of was: _And this week on 'Trying to Convince my Parents the Bands I Listen to Aren't Satanic, Panic! at the Disco!'_

You say you value loyalty over honesty. The truth is subjective. You can remember a story about a college professor who held up a book to the class and said “This book is red.” All the students disagreed with that, saying that the cover was black. The two sides argued for a bit, then the professor turned the book around, showing the back cover that was previously facing him, and was red. After hearing that, you take every “real” statement with a grain of salt.

“So,” Dr. Patrick said after making a note of your answer, “You would tell a lie to remain loyal to a friend.” You frown and clench your fists in your lap. That. Is. Not. What. You. Said. You are getting  _ extremely  _ fed up with this guy. Twisting your words, changing your thoughts. You just. Want it. To stop.

“And what about loyalty versus … say charity?”

 

**I value loyalty.**

**I value charity.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm babysitting for the weekend, next weekend, up in northern New Hampshire. I've read 2 books where someone babysits out of town. In one of them, the kid got kidnapped. In the other, the kid _and_ the babysitter got kidnapped.
> 
> Fun for me!
> 
> Also, I'm not gonna be able to see Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children on its opening weekend DX.


	49. The Analyst (3.4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I officially have a book addiction. Read more [here](http://olivia-ivy.tumblr.com/post/151031826979/story-time).

You tell him that you still value loyalty. You don’t bother with a justification. He won’t listen anyway. No one does.

“So you would sooner look after friends than help those in greater need.” He observes. You clench your gloved hand into a fist on your lap. The tone he’s using is almost that of a guilt-tripping mother.  _ Oh no, you sit down. I’ve just come off a triple shift at the diner, but by all means, you take a load off. I’ll set the table and make dinner.  _ The thought would make you laugh if you weren’t so livid.

A small bell chimes somewhere in the distance. “Ah,” Dr. Patrick says, “it seems we’re out of time. We’ll talk again soon.” He sends you off with a smile. You stare back blankly until his facade drops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I love about being me? I am 5'2", and today I was wearing this adorable light gray open knit sweater with a pale pink heart on it - even though I looked like this adorable little person who couldn't hurt a fly, I still have the ability to look a group of fuckboys (who are probably six inches to a foot taller than me) in the eye with murder in my eyes, tell them "Move" and they will fucking _move_. 
> 
> Tiny yet dangerous, that's me!


	50. Isolation (8 Hours Until Dawn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most annoying people in my related class are transferring out of the school, REJOICE! CAN YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING~?

Dan, Phil, and Connor were in a small alcove in the lodge. A round table was the centerpiece of the area, with three gothic high-backed wooden chairs with a soft, dark material covering the cushions surrounded the table. There were candles everywhere in seemingly random locations around the room. Each rested on an individual iron candle holder, and Connor went around with his lighter lighting each one. Dan was seated in the centermost chair, skimming through a book that Connor had pulled from the library. It mentioned a lot about freeing your mind and losing preconceptions and inhibitions. Phil sat down in the chair to his left, now (thankfully) out of his monk robes. “Anything in there we ought to know before we get into this?” he asked.

Dan looked down at the pages again.  _ You mean other than the fact that this is a horrible idea? _ He thought sarcastically. The only reason he was doing this was for Phil. And Connor, of course, but it was obviously the older Brit who had convinced him to go through with this. “D’you think I should have brought my glitter pentagram?” he asked, rather than answer the question. Phil laughed, the kind of laugh that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and Dan smiled, grateful for the break in the heavy atmosphere.

“Guys,” Connor said after he finished with the candles. “Come on, this is serious.”

“I’m still firmly against this whole idea,” Dan said as Connor sat down.

“And just for that,” Phil said, sliding him the planchette, “you get to be in charge of convening with the spirits!”

_ And just for that _ , Dan thought,  _ I’m killing every plant in the house when we get back _ . He put two fingers on the corner nearest him, as if touching it any more would make him keel over.

 

**Serious.** **_Is anyone there?_ **

**Flippant.** **_Um, abracadabra?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something went wrong with yahoo mail and it's refusing to let me into my account, despite all my attempts to log in, so I won't get any emails until something is resolved. I hate how much technology is fucked up.


	51. Isolation (Flippant)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FIC-IVERSARY!!!!!!!!1!!!
> 
> Thank you guys for a full fucking year of support, I mean wow. What on the internet lasts a year?
> 
> Seriously, thank you all so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm moving. Yeah. My mom told me on Sunday, an hour after I got back from babysitting (which went well, I fixed my account with yahoo, the kids were great, I almost put a diaper on backwards _but I didn't_ (+1 babysitting skillz), and somehow, the children were _not_ traumatized by the live action Cat in the Hat movie. Somehow) and they signed the final papers on Tuesday, and we're moving in on Saturday/Sunday.
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> I'm at my dad's place rn (which, even though it's his weekend, I had to bargain/fight for), so if the updates don't come, then it's because the wifi didn't get set up at the new place correctly. I don't think this is gonna happen, but just in case it does, here's your warning.

Dan mentally rolled his eyes.  _ You’re doing this for Connor, _ he thought. “Right, then, uh … is anyone there?” he cast his eyes upward. “Spirits … Elvis … the future of MCR … anyone there?” He looked around and shook his head slightly. “Abra cadabra?”

“Dan,” Connor said, giving im a look that said  _ knock it off _ . Dan surrendered, seeing that his attempts to calm him down weren’t quite working. Why was he taking this so seriously anyway? Hasbro has a mark on the box that says this is suitable for ages 8+. You can buy a Supernatural themed one at the mall, for christ’s sake! 

“Okay,” he said, “If you can hear my voice, give us a sign.”

Nothing happened.

“Maybe they’re shy,” Phil suggested and Dan sniggered.

“Guys!” Connor snapped. “If you’re not gonna take this seriously—”

“No, no, we’ll be good,” Dan guaranteed. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Is anyone there … wherever “there” is?”

Nothing moved for a moment. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, the planchette began moving across the board under their fingertips.

“Wait …” Phil said, his eyes glued to the board.

“Are you doing this?” Connor asked.

“I’m not doing anything!” Dan defended.

“It’s moving again!”

They watched as the planchette settled for a moment with the hole over a letter. “H,” someone called out. Maybe it was Dan, he couldn’t even tell. The hand not on the planchette was beginning to shake. 

“What’s it spelling?”

“Are you moving it?”

“Hold on.”

“Who’s moving it?”

“Holy shit.” The planchette stopped on the letter ‘P’, completing the word ‘help’.

“Help?” Connor asked.

“Wh- How are we supposed to help?” Phil asked. 

“I don’t know, what does it mean?” Dan wondered out loud.

“Who needs help?” Phil asked.

Dan looked back at the board.

 

**Clarify.** **_Who needs help?_ **

****Probe.** ** _How can we help?_** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not afraid of Ouija boards. Fire, yes. A portal to the spirit realm, nah. My policy on scary things is "If you can buy it for $30 at Hot Topic, it's not that scary. Except for the fact that you spent $30 on it."
> 
> I am OliviaIvy in Tuber Simulator if anyone else has already devoted too much of their life to this as I have.


	52. Isolation (Clarify)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a candle for my room (mulberry, if anyone is curious) and I couldn't find any matches so I had to use a lighter. I took it, went to my room, came back out, and asked my mother how lighters work.
> 
> All Honors courses this year, and I can't work a Bic lighter. That about sums me up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am all moved in and 87% unpacked in my new house. I have my room set up in a good way, I strung up these orange Christmas lights around the room, and my parents have a vinyl cutter for their business set up in our basement so I'm printing out quotes and putting them on my walls. I got rid of half my books, but I still fill up 1 and a half shelves of my super long bookshelf.
> 
> Also my dog has taken 3 separate shits in this house.

Dan swallowed thickly until he thought he could speak again. “Who are you?” he asked as calmly as he could. The planchette started moving.

“F.”

“R.”

“I.”

“E.”

“N.”

“D.”

They all went silent. “C-could it just mean, like,” Phil suggested, “a friendly ghost?”

_ Yeah, one that’ll take us out for a pint before murdering our faces off. _ Dan thought sarcastically, but even in his own mind, there was no bite in his words.

“It’s gotta be …” Connor said, his eyes wide and glued to the board. He turned to Dan. “Ask which one it is. Ask … ask if it’s Tyler or Troye.”

“Connor-” Dan said, all set to nope right out of this bullshit.

“Just ask!” he snapped.

 

**Tyler.** **_… Is that you?_ **

**Troye.** **_… Is that you?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to post a spoopy Septiplier one-shot soon, based on an actual experience I had at the screamfest near my town. Like, my life is just a fanfic waiting to happen, s2g.


	53. Isolation (Tyler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got a 100 on a test I haven't even taken yet. All because I was half a second faster at saying BINGO than the guy sitting next to me in Related.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm being Max Caulfield from Life is Strange (my #2 choice-based video game) for Halloween. I got the Jane Doe t-shirt and everything. My grandparents are letting me borrow an old Polaroid camera - try to get more hipster than that, I dare you.

Dan started counting down from ten in his head. He had to go on the assumption that this was all actually happening. Connor was too shaken up and Phil would never do something like that. “Who are we speaking to? … Tyler? Is this you?” Dan was closer to Tyler than Troye, and if either of them were to be an angry, Ouija board-using spirit, then it would definitely be Tyler. They sent him crying into a snowy mountain half-shirtless after humiliating him. 

The planchette crawled to  _ Yes _ .

Dan let out a choked sound. He had known. Obviously, he had known. You can’t survive for a year in a mountain all alone. But there was some part of him, probably the part that desperately wanted his friends to be okay, that wished that Tyler and Troye found their way to a town and decided to swear off the internet and spend the last 365 days raising geese and moose (meese? Mooses? Moosi?) in the Canadian Outback. But he’d known that wasn’t the case.

“Oh god,” he moaned.

“This is …” Phil trailed off. HIs eyes were as wide as saucers. He looked up from the board to Connor.

“Connor, are you-?”

“I’m fine,” Connor said as his chest heaved with labored breaths.

“Are you sure?” Dan asked.

“For the last time, I’m fine!” Connor yelled. Both the taller men winced away from the harsh noise. “I want to hear what it has to say.”

“I … I don’t know where to start.” Dan said.

“I mean, maybe we can find out what happened that night?” Phil suggested. It sounded morbid, but Dan could understand that point.

Dan looked back at Connor. “You okay with this?”

Connor swallowed thickly. He hadn’t lifted his eyes off the board. “I can handle it.”

Dan nodded. “Okay … okay …”

 

**Probe.** **_What happened to you?_ **

**Apologize.** **_We’re so sorry._ **


	54. Isolation (Apologize)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *bursts in with a turkey under my arm* QUICK, GRAB ALL THE THANKSGIVING YOU CAN BEFORE CHRISTMAS DESCENDS UPON US.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got all the candy this Halloween ^^

“Tyler,” Dan said, “if this is really you and you can really hear us, we are  _ so sorry _ .”

“It was stupid, and mean, and we should have never done it,” Phil said. He kept his rapidly blinking eyes on the board.

“We,” Dan pushed down the lump in his throat, “we miss you, and-”

The planchette began moving again. “B. E. T. R.”

“Oh no.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Betrayed.”

“What does he mean?”

“It’s still going!”

“K. I. L. L. E. D- no!”

“Killed?” Connor questioned, looking at Dan.

“No, no, we didn’t kill them! It was just a stupid prank, we had no idea they’d run out into the freaking mountain wilderness!” Dan knew it was a weak defense. It was what he forced himself to think when he woke up at 3 A.M. and could only think of Tyler’s hurt face. It rarely worked.

“Dan, calm down,” Phil said. He’d been the one to coax Dan back to sleep on those long, tearful nights. “Let’s just find out more, okay?”

Dan could feel his breathing pick up. His eyes watered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Guys, guys, what does he mean?” Connor said.

“Just ask what happened.”

 

**Probe.** **_Who killed you?_ **

**Clarify.** **_How did you die?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we talk about Anti? Like, the whole month of Anti that Jack and Robin did. Amazing editing work aside (definitely give him props for that btw), the whole idea is just so great. Like, Jack saw all this Anti stuff, and instead of getting creeped out (if you google image search Anti, you're going to find porn. It's going to happen) he saw all the edits and drawings and videos and fanfics and he was like "That's awesome! You guys like to make edits or MEPs or AMVs? Sweet! Here's some poses and soundbites! You like drawing? Great! Here's some pictures with different things for you to practice, like blood dripping, or reflections. You like fanfictions, or theories? Here's me hearing things that only I can hear, my eye twitching, hidden messages at the bottom of videos. GO CRAZY! HAVE FUN WITH IT!" He just wanted us to have fun with it and do what we love and express ourselves in whatever way we want to and I just ...
> 
> Thank you, to Jack and everyone who contributed to AntiOctober. Thank you so much.


	55. Isolation (Probe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN WAKING UP AT 4 AM SINCE THE WE WENT BACK AN HOUR WTF WHY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a job! And glasses because I'm blind as shit.

Dan blinked back the tears forming and clenched and unclenched the fist on his lap. “Okay. Okay. Tyler, who killed you? Who was it?”

The planchette was moving faster, more violently now. “L. I. B.”

“Library!” Phil shouted. “Maybe there’s something in the library here?”

The planchette changed directions so fast Dan’s finger almost slipped off. “P. R. O. O.”

“Proof,” Phil guessed, “there’s proof in the library.”

The board itself shook from side to side as if someone had grabbed it by the edges and rattled it with all their might. Connor just had time to yell “Watch out!” before the planchette flew across the room and clattered to the floor, making the three of them jump back from the table.

Dan’s mouth was dry as he stared at the now harmless triangle on the carpet. “Holy shit,” he rasped out.

“You know what?” Connor said, standing slowly. “No, this is bullshit. This isn’t real —”

“Connor,” Dan said, turning to his smaller friend, “I don’t know what just happened —”

“Listen, I don’t know … I don’t know if you guys think messing with me like this is somehow  _ helping me _ get over my grief or something, but this is  _ not cool _ .” His voice was shaking but held something in it that pushed Dan back into his seat.

“Connor, you said you wanted to use the board, you  _ saw what happened _ —”

“Both of you calm down!” Phil raised his voice, not quite yelling, but definitely getting ready to.

Connor moved across the room to the exit. “I don’t need this right now, okay?! You guys are full of it!” he shouted before storming away. As he exited, Dan’s will drained out of him. He all but collapsed onto his folded arms resting on the table — not touching the now benign board.

Phil put his hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Should we go after him?” Dan asked, his head still down.

“I … I think we should give him some space. We’ll check on him in a little while,” Phil said. Dan could hear rustling and assumed Phil was looking over at the doorway where the American had disappeared. Dan picked his head up off the table. 

“I don’t blame him,” the younger man said. “This was like, literally out of a horror movie, with the planchette, and the words …”

“Do you think we should do what it said?” Phil asked. “Check in the library?”

Dan shrugged. “It would make sense,” he begrudgingly admitted. “But I do want to say that next time I  _ vehemently  _ suggest that we  _ not _ do the scary thing, we’re  _ not doing the scary thing _ . Understood?”

Phil nodded with a half-hearted laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE ELECTION/POLITICS. Reasons:  
> *This is a site for fanfiction. Next to nothing is connected to reality at all. Because of that, we're not going to talk about reality.  
> *Literally at least 95% of the people on this site are gay. I'm gay, you're gay, and if you're not gay, the person who reads this after you is gay. Right now is not a great time to be gay.  
> *All of the ships are gay, and none of them are rooted in reality, Read the above points.  
> *I am terrified and so sad at everything that's happening, I need a break from it. I think we all do.
> 
> Have a good day, guys. Be safe, no matter who you are.


	56. Isolation (Mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammarly tried to correct "fuck nuggets" to "fucknuggets". Oh yes, my mistake, thank you for that helpful insight.

“Jack?” Mark called out. His response was a heartstopping scream. “Jack!” Mark scrambled over the log, losing his purchase at one point and felt the pain in his stomach. “Oof —  _ fuck nuggets! _ ”

He stood on top of the log and waved his flashlight over the snowy landscape. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Mark hopped off and began walking forward.

“Jack? Where’d you go?” he swept his light over the landscape as he walked. He came to a dilapidated tractor truck that was covered in snow. Something glinted inside, and he leaned in close to the driver’s side window. He bumped the door, making a mask fall and making him jump back and yell. Mark glanced around.

“Nobody saw that happen, therefore it didn’t happen.” He said. No one stepped out of the bushes to object and start laughing at him, so he continued on his way.

“Jack? Jackaboy? My favorite potato?” Mark called, no longer concerned so much as annoyed it was taking that long to find him. “I totally promise I won’t murder you when I find yo-”

Jack chose that moment to jump out from behind a tree, holding antlers to his head with one hand and screaming. Mark, not expecting that even though, in retrospect, he probably should have, screamed louder than Jack and jumped back, immediately cursing as soon as he realized what had happened.

Jack, the little shit, was laughing.

“Oh my god!” he said, bending over at the waist from how hard he was laughing at Mark’s expense.

“No!” Mark said, coming back to Jack.

“That was awesome!”

“It really wasn’t!”

Jack fiddled with his phone and held it out to Mark. “You have to see this!”

“I’m not seeing anyth-” a familiar scream played from the small device. “Oh, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Jack said, currently winning the contest for World’s Most Shit-Eating Grin.

“If you post that …” 

“I’m gonna stop you there and let you know that as soon as we get back into the Land of Wifi, this is going on Instagram, Tumblr, and possibly a vlog about this trip, but you can continue with your threat if you’d like to.”

 

**Witty.** **_Remember to tag me._ **

**Grumpy.** **_Fine, you win_ ** **.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just pretend I haven't not updated in a month or so, please? 
> 
> Honestly, it was just lack of time. I got a job, I became a National Honor Society candidate (which if you don't know what that is and how important that is, I cannot accurately describe it to you. A good portion of the candidates didn't even know what it was until the day they were told.), and I've been working on things to send in for precollege programs for Creative Writing (on a related note, here's how fucking packed my summer is going to be: a 2 week precollege program, 3 weeks of being a CIT at Girl Scout Camp, and somehow fitting in volunteer hours for NHS around all that shit. Bull. Shit.) But, I'm alive! Don't worry! This is still alive!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, updates will definitely be more close together, at least while I'm on winter break.


	57. Isolation (Witty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 QTE used, 8 total

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2016 IS FUCKING GONE, HURRAY!!! Now let's take a look at 2017!
> 
> 2017: Trump gets inaugurated in 17 days.
> 
> Me: LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT 2017
> 
> 2017: Pence is going in with him
> 
> Me: 2017 IS GOING TO BE MY YEAR!
> 
> 2017: Bruh. Come on.

Mark rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that he had put himself through worse embarrassment for fewer reasons. He ran his hand through his floof. “Just be sure to tag me and someone else in the Jerk Boyfriend Challenge.”

Jack pouted. “I’m an amazin’ boyfriend, thank you very much!”

Mark raised an eyebrow and gestured to the phone, which had the video paused on the screen. Jack shrugged, then got an impish grin on his face. He leaned in close to Mark, putting his hands on Mark’s chest to lean in close to his ear and whisper, “Maybe I can make it up t’ ye at the cabin.”

If either of the men had been paying attention to their surroundings rather than each other, they might have noticed the predator lurking in the shadows, watching them, waiting.

Mark and Jack forged ahead, new motivation to get them to the cabin quicker. They crossed over a snowy bridge in front of a waterfall.

“Holy shit, this place is gorgeous!” Jack commented, observing the scenery.

“Don’t say I don’t know how to show you a good time,” Mark said. He put his arm over Jack’s shoulder and pressed his lips against the Irishman’s cheek, feeling it heat up under the affection.

They walked in comfortable silence up a hill until a piercing shriek stopped them in their tracks. They both looked over to the right, but the mountains bounced sound around so much, it was nearly impossible to determine the origin of the sound. 

“What the fook was that?” Jack whispered.

“Would you believe a squirrel?” Mark asked, urging him forward more quickly.

“Big ass squirrel,” Jack muttered.

They had just reached a level part of the path when Mark stopped dead in his tracks. Jack asked him what was wrong, but Mark shushed him. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

“If I say no, do we get to pretend it didn’t happen?” Jack responded.

Mark went off to the side and made a snowball. He tensed and threw it at a tree near where the sounds were emanating from. Nearly as soon as it made contact, a deer jumped out of the forest, between Jack and Mark, and across the path to the forest. It had startled Mark and Jack, and the two men fell to the cold ground. Mark was the first to pick himself up, Jack following closely, brushing snow off their clothes and looking where the deer disappeared.

“See,” Mark said, a bit out of breath from a combination of the high altitude and the fright, “what’d I tell you? A big-ass squirrel.”

Jack leveled him with a class-A bitchface. “Really? A squirrel?”

Mark’s lips twitched. “Well I should know, shouldn’t I? After all, I am the king.”

Jack snorted and shook his head. They followed the gently curving path to a small stream that had several boards nailed together as a makeshift bridge. Just beyond that was a shack with a single fluorescent light over the side window. Pieces of sheet metal were put together haphazardly to form some kind of protection against the elements. There were panes of glass serving as what were supposed to be windows but instead were so grimy that they were nearly opaque, and a tarp covering the lack of one of those panes. There was no door, just an opening wide enough for entry.

“Charming,” Mark commented. Jack wrinkled his nose slightly.

“Just as pretty as you described,” Jack said.

“What, this?” Mark asked, pointing over his shoulder to the shack. “This isn’t the cabin.” He poked his head inside and caught a glimpse of chains with hooks attached. “This better not be the cabin,” Mark muttered before entering fully. He would say that the shack had seen better days, but he highly doubted that. Everything was rotting and dank, branches from nearby trees had begun growing in the structure. On what served as a workbench of some kind, there was a mask. It looked like a gas mask that would have been used in World War II or sometime around then. One of the lenses was cracked, which would have rendered the gas mask horribly ineffective. A small tag on the inside where the forehead of the wearer would have gone read “Nathan Sharp” in cramped script.

A slightly evil idea formed in Mark’s head.

 

**Scare.** **_Sweet revenge!_ **

**Show.** **_Check out this mask_ ** **.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Settle an argument for me: is Harry Potter's full name Harry James Potter or Harry F-ing Potter. Because I'm pretty sure it's the latter.


	58. Isolation (Show)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *pulls myself out of snowbank* is it summer yet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially applied for the pre-college summer program! (it also took up any and every moment of free writing time I had for the past month, sorry!

Mark shook his head. That would be too mean. He brushed some of the dust off the intact lens and went out to where Jack was crouched by the creek. “Hey, check out this mask.”

Jack stood up and turned around. “Where’d you find that?”

“In that shack over there. Weird, right?” Mark put the mask up to his face and made heavy breathing noises. “Jack. I am your father.”

Jack started laughing. “Given what we’re gonna do later, that’s pretty creepy.”

Mark moved the mask so his face was visible and winked at Jack. Jack pushed the taller man. “Let’s just get to the cabin.” Jack forged ahead and Mark discarded the mask.

A deer danced nervously in the trail ahead of them before disappearing into the treeline once again. The two men looked at each other, then back up the path before continuing upwards. Something sounded in the woods next to them, but they pressed on, albeit faster than they were. The crested the small hill and looked down. 

“Oh, shit,” Jack muttered, covering his mouth with his hand. Despite his shock and revulsion, he was the first to rush down the hill to the same deer they had seen thrice now, this time with its throat slashed open. Mark was quick to follow. It was partially propped on a log, its head and one leg twitching pitifully towards them.

“Damn,” Mark whispered, clearing his throat. Jack got as near to it as was safe and knelt down next to it. He looked up at Mark, those famous baby blues glistening in the low lighting. 

“I don’t think it’s gonna make it, Mark.” He whispered.

 

**Comfort Deer.**

**Kill Deer.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA children: a wounded animal is a dangerous animal. If you come across a Wendigo-ed deer in the woods, stay back. Mike/Mark and Jessica/Jack are/will be fine, but in reality, that deer would have lashed out and kicked one of them in the throat.


	59. Isolation (Comfort)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 QTE used, 9 total. This choice will count as a QTE once it's made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory FUCK YEAH GO PATRIOTS BRADY IS JESUS and now we're moving on from Sportsball. The only good things that came from the Superbowl: I got to leave work an hour early, I got to play with my adorable 9-month-old nephew, Stranger Things season 2 trailer, a few other good commercials, and Lady Gaga's halftime show. Other than that, despite being in the heart of New England, I don't quite care.
> 
> But I would like to see a dramatic reenactment of Tyler's reaction to the Patriots winning. That shit would be funny.

Mark’s heart went out to the animal. It’s big brown eyes looked so much like Chica’s and could tell how much pain it was in. Mark crouched down closer to it with his hand outstretched, slowly, so as not to spook it. “Hey buddy,” Mark intoned softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s gonna be over soon.” It’s hot, rancid breath huffed in Mark’s face as he rested a hand on the side of its snout. 

A growl that decidedly not come from the deer echoed around the area, and before Mark could so much as look up, the deer was yanked backwards, inhuman growls and squelching noises coming from the shadows. He didn’t even register the fact that he was screaming until Jack pulled him up and got him running away from that.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jack screamed. The two narrowly jumped over a broken wooden structure - Mark couldn’t properly examine it in his panic.

_ Gotta be a bear - it’s a bear, _ Mark mentally assured himself. If that’s true, then why is his heart pounding worse than it ever has?

They came to a fork in the path.

 

**Risk shortcut.**

**Follow path.**


	60. Isolation (Path)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 QTE used, 10 total

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO ELSE IS FREAKIN HYPED FOR SCARE PEWDIEPIE SEASON 2?! I MEAN LOOK AT [THIS PICTURE](http://img.goldposter.com/2017/02/scare-pewdiepie-season-2_poster_goldposter_com_1.jpg@0o_0l_300w_70q.jpg)!!!!!!!!!! Yes, it's most likely legit, I saw this on [the IMDb page for Scare Pewdiepie](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt5435072/) and I don't think they would have posted it if it was fake. SO HOLY SHIT THAT LOOKS SO FREAKING _COOL_!!!!!!!!!!!

Mark looked at the nearly sheer cliff face then began running along the path. “We’re almost there!” he shouted to Jack who was a half step behind him. They rounded a corner, nearly slipping on the snow and ice over the ground. Mark came to a gate and swung it open, barely pausing, and heard Jack secure it closed behind them.  _ Yes, because a wooden gate is going to stop a bear. _

_ Was it a bear? _

Mark bounded up the stairs, already fumbling with the key in his pocket. Behind him, in addition to the growls echoing around them, Mark heard Jack slip on a patch of snow and fall down. Mark skidded to a stop just before the door and his cold fingers dropped the key on the porch, bouncing further from him.

 

**Help Jack.**

**Grab key.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for people who chose to follow the path in order to save QTEs, kudos to you for being responsible. However, speaking of kudos, as a quick reminder 1 kudos = 1 QTE passed. At the moment that this note is being written, there is a total of 852 kudos. 1st of all, that's amazing and mindboggling and thank you all so much you have no idea how much I appreciate every one of those. 2nd of all, we have currently used 10 of those QTEs. 10. I highly doubt we're going to run out anytime soon. 
> 
> But hey, you make your decisions. If you want to play it safe, play it safe. Just know that being safe isn't always the best choice.
> 
> This choice is a QTE.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i have yet to come up with a cool title](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167306) by [spaceprincesam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincesam/pseuds/spaceprincesam)




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